Living an Indoctrinated Dream
by Aberron
Summary: The entire ME Series, from the perspective of Jack Harper, The Illusive Man. A unique experience from the eyes of a man who has seen it all. A hard-ball version of the game series that you won't find anywhere else. AU, Indoctrination-free. Or may Hell have mercy on all those who know me.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note

This is the first chapter of an idea that has been stewing in my head for a good while. I have five more chapters written, but they are being poured over for corrections and other such niceties. This fanfiction is written by a fan rather pissed about the ending of Mass Effect 3, but I understand the reasons why Bioware had to scramble to fill in plot when the lead writer got kicked off the series.

So, let me present to you An Indoctrinated Dream. Mass Effect with Ego.

_If you wanted me to apologize, you would have brought a lawyer._

_ -Jack Harper_

The feeling of a bullet passing through your head is quite surreal. Surreal right until your nerves that let you know that you are hurt start screaming out to let you know that you have been hurt. Shepard's bullet passed right through the frontal lobes, and unfortunately due to his reaper hardware he had installed, he had a much better response system installed behind his eyes. He jerked his head as the bullet broke through his improved skull, the grain sized piece of burning hot metal, inferno ammo, Her favorite, burned its way at a different angle. Thanks to his involuntary head twitching, the bullet then impacted his spine, passing relatively safely through the rest of his head. So he had a perfect view of her as she lowered her gun, and dragged her broken body over towards Anderson's.

He consciously turned off his nervous system, as with a burnt and broken spine there wasn't much point to having it on. More importantly, it turned off the pain that he was receiving. Sometimes there were benefits to the Reaper hardware. Thanks to the chat he just had with Shepard, he finally realized the consequences of those. At that time he didn't really want to think about it, but now he had a lot more time to think about it. His mouth wouldn't move, but he could shift his eyes around. He watched as Shepard and Anderson had their last little chat. He wished he could insert some commentary. Content to watch as Shepard got a seat for the final battle of Humanity, Jack Harper reflected on all of this.

His goals for Cerberus, his life's work, had been subverted by the enemy. The moment he implanted himself with those eyes he knew something had changed. He had thought that he had it under control. Looking back, he could see a clear path of small and simple decisions that showed the same Indoctrination that he had been looking for within the Citadel Council. He had found it, for certain, but only where his Reaper overlords wanted him to. He had been played like a cheap instrument, leading what should have been Humanity's brightest hope to become their darkest future. The future as it stood right now was not one that he would have wanted.

The Reapers had started the battle with about 1:2 odds against them. Right now it was looking more like 1:1. The Citadel forces were being systematically cut down before they could pierce the kinetic barriers of the Reaper Dreadnaughts. One by one the ships were falling, and burning up in earth's atmosphere. If Jack had the capacity to be angry, he would. The Reapers had removed his emotional responses from his mind, to better his ability to micromanage Cerberus. That didn't mean that he couldn't analyze the situation and pass his own judgement. Hell, this whole situation was a giant setup. The Reapers had the battle in their greedy little tentacles, and had agents in every single fleet. These agents could alert the Reapers to any plan that the allied forces were forming. He knew this because he made sure that these agents were in place. For Cerberus. For the Reapers.

His mind went through all of its capabilities. The only thing he had control of currently were his eyes, and his brain was slowly losing oxygen. He could probably act for the next minute or two before his brain lost enough blood that he would no longer function. The Reaper hardware was the only thing keeping him going. So, he had plenty of time to organize his life and all of his decisions. Without emotions to slow things down he could correctly say that he had been manipulated starting within the last ten years. So, when he helped found Cerberus it was under his own power and mental control. He wasn't manipulated then. That at least would give him something to smile about. If he could make his mouth do more than drool senselessly and let his lifeblood drain out. Poor hardware, to stop working when his spine was destroyed. Whose idea was that to have just one connecting point for all his hardware? Oh right. That one was actually his own choice. Now he wished he could grimace. Shepard had far too much practice shooting husks for his liking.

Speaking of Shepard, she had gotten up and was fiddling with the data uplink to the Citadel's core. He had been trying for hours to break in, so he didn't expect her to be able to go anywhere he couldn't. His eyes opened wider in surprise when the lift started working, but she hadn't even gotten past the login screen. He focused, his zoom enhancement focusing on the screen she was holding onto for support. It was showing the same screen that he himself had been stuck at. That meant that this lift wasn't rising from her input, but from an outside source. This all reeked of a trap.

The lift rose, stopping at the base of the citadel. All around him, he could see the fleets locked in a one sided slaughter. One Reaper was nearby, just sitting and observing the citadel. He knew this one. Harbinger, if he could guess. Harbinger was a larger Dreadnaught, and had two sets of main plasma burst weapons. It was a unique addition to the Reaper. Harbinger was sitting a comfortable distance away, content to observe. But to Jack, this all made him come to a realization. Just as he had been manipulated, Shepard was next. How much of the Lazarus Project was made up of Indoctrination pieces of cybernetics? Had Shepard already been compromised?

Judging by her lack of response to the stimulus around her, he had to assume she had been. This was all engineered by the Reapers to control the outcome, while letting the sentient species believe that they were making their own decisions. He knew how this would end, because the hardware in his brain was letting him process all of the facts, conjecture of Shepard's actions, and expectation of how a synthetic might react. The Catalyst, the entire goal of the Allied forces, had connected with the Citadel.

While under the control of the Reapers, he had been told to leave their little project alone. Now he knew why. It was another manipulation, just like the Mass Relays, the Citadel. It was all just another layer on their complete and total victory, making the newly-allied races spend and waste resources on it. Resources that could have been better spent making holdouts, or some other plan that led to the races escaping or such. However, the Catalyst was designed to interact with the citadel.

He was dying, and in his moment of death he could feel at least a little clarity return. Enough to recognize that whatever the Reapers were planning, they needed a sentient to initiate it. Shepard started talking into thin air, seemingly communicating with something in the chamber. He couldn't see anything. Further signs that she was Indoctrinated. Before he could consider anything further, she started walking towards an exposed power conduit. It was all the way on the left, and had sparks that looked remarkably like the red sparks that flowed off of the Reapers. She was delusional, walking towards the conduit with both hands outwards, reaching for the exposed cabling. That sounded remarkably like the Reapers getting what they wanted.

Time to do something about it. One thing that he had built into his head, considering his desire to process information, was another Omni-gel layer, allowing him to fit an Omni-tool into the space where his thyroid used to be. He had software to manage what had been removed. Hardware layers, too. Another layer that had been added was some offensive software. Specifically, a Heavy Overload package. He would have had to use it on Shepard to strip her of shields earlier, but when she arrived most of her hardsuit had been burnt off. So there was no need for it. Now, though, he accessed the software with his slowly dying brain. It was taking too long, but that might have been because he could hardly aim the ocular motors on his implants any more.

Still, Jack Harper had made his life a series of stunning victories. He had only had to kill someone directly three times. Anderson wasn't his choice of action, but he was technically the one pulling the trigger. He could take partial responsibility. Murder in the second degree, but most assuredly not the first or third. The other two were a bit more personal. Still, no sense getting nostalgic when you had a galaxy-wide plan to throw off. Just as Shepard came within range of the conduits, and the energy started arcing towards her, he activated his Heavy Overload. The small tech burst latched onto the conduit, and the sparks changed from their normal red to a deeper orange. Jack could safely assume it was a good thing, because in the background he could see the Reaper, Harbinger, almost get startled and try to charge the Citadel.

Jack couldn't smile, but he really, _really_ wanted to right now. Shepard fell to the floor, mouth spasming and ears bleeding. Looks like the Lazarus Implants were rejecting her. She didn't deserve that. Too bad Miranda didn't go behind his back and put in a control mechanism like he hoped she would secretly do to spite him. Still, it would probably end in the same situation they were in right now. The Reapers would still have won, because all of his decisions were still being influenced by them at the time.

The last thing he saw was a sphere of oscillating colors rising from the Catalyst and rushing towards the Reapers. Including himself, of course. It looked like a grand mess. Shepard and he were both bleeding out on the ground, him from blood loss and her from convulsions as her artificial lung and heart implants failed and stopped pumping. He could appreciate the Reapers taking away his emotions at this point. They would have made him wretch or turn his head away from the energy as it rushed him, picking up speed and -

* * *

"Sir, stop twisting your head or you'll lose the other eye!" Someone was saying. "Stay still!" "Nurse, bring some restraints, we have to go into the nerve!"

"He's losing blood!"

"Found the bullet! Sinus cavity! Forceps!"

This was not the memory he wanted to have. But the pain was so _real_, it almost felt like it wasn't a memory, like he was back in Australia. The Reaper hardware should have filtered the pain out by now. He tried to blink, but something was holding his eye open. The other was a mass of pain, almost like there was a knife in there. Shoving his head forward, he could feel the jagged edge of a knife drag on the bone of his cheek. So there really was a knife there. But more importantly, he had not done that in the memory.

"Pinch that! He is losing more blood!"

"Forcep went through into the mouth, get a suture!"

"My Hell! Get that bullet out of him, now!"

That wasn't the script. He wasn't supposed to be seeing this. Yet here he was, on the operating table in Australia. He had gone hunting with his friend and associate, Henry Lawson. Things had gone poorly when Jack got gored. Then, an accident occurred in the worst form when he fired his gun and the bullet refracted and part of it went into his eye. Which lead to the operating table. Henry owned a medical firm that researched genome manipulation and artificial organ replacement. This included his own private hospital, where Jack was being worked over.

This was all during the 'Great Shift Forward' in technology that was happening as the Prothean archive on Mars divulged more and more data. Sometimes it was just fun to break out the old guns and use them. Much more sporting than a railgun system that was as easy as a video game to point and shoot. The mass effect allowed weaponry to change everything. Bullets still hurt, though.

Through the haze, something was forced over his mouth, making him feel drowsy. He supposed that if this was real, he should at least be a gentleman and stay still so they could fix him. But, knowing this must be some lucid dream or some form of afterlife, he had to keep some form of decorum. He breathed in more deeply, letting the cloudiness rush across his senses and take him far from the operating room. Hopefully the next lucid dream would be when he took home President Scott and her very beautiful aide. That was a much preferred memory.

* * *

3 Days Later

"Henry, I am still not positive this is all real." Jack told his friend honestly. "This all feels like a lucid dream." They were in a hospital room that thankfully had a tint control of the windows from the bed, along with temperature control, and control over the door lock. Henry went to the very best of accommodations for his friend. They had been friends since the founding of Lawson Enterprises, when Henry got his first big fund from Jack's company. Jack had a huge host of companies all focused around the networking of capital and manpower. He could be classified as a Venture Capitalist, but at the same time was very different. He was a capitalist for any concern or opportunity that benefited humanity as a whole.

"That's the painkillers, Jack." Henry said, still apologetic about their trip. "You have been heard screaming at night. We have you on so much pain medicine that it is difficult to have you in a mindset that you can think clearly in."

"Oh I can think clearly, Henry." Jack said, speaking but unable to see. His remaining eye was behind a blindfold. "More clearly than ever."

Henry snorted. "I doubt that. But I do need your opinion. I have started cloning an eye for you. But my best doctor claims that it won't be as functional as your previous one for at least a year. The other option is to get some sort of cybernetic enhanced eyes. That would work faster and get you back on your feet. We can start the operation at any time. But first I need to know what you want. We both know your parents and siblings aren't around to advise me on this anymore."

More from Henry that didn't follow the script. Very interesting. This lucid dream was entertaining. Jack would at least let it play out, perhaps to see what the Reapers were doing this time. "The cybernetics sound useful, but I don't feel comfortable using them. I'll take a real eye any day." There. His first real action to throw off the timeline. In the real memory he had taken the Cybernetics, not wanting to take any further time off for a wound. If this lucid dream was controlled by the Reapers, they would implant the cybernetics anyways. His lungs and throat were working fine, if a little tired from the operation and healing. He would not attribute anything to screaming, as that would play into this entire dreamscape that the Reapers had stuck him in.

Henry got up. Here he would tell him that the cybernetics were it. Then this would all be revealed as yet another layer of Reaper plot. "Alright, Jack. We will start the implantation in thirty minutes. I'll do anything I can to make this up to you, my friend." Henry said, getting up and heading for the door. It certainly sounded legitimate, coming from Henry. But unless he could see he couldn't verify if he was lying and going around his back or not. Nothing was real, nothing could be trusted, and he couldn't be Indoctrinated further. Not when he had the choice.

As they wheeled him out of his room, he grinned. Time to test the theory. His eyes would only be the first of many tests in this lucid dreamscape. If the Reapers could replicate his old emotions and memories, he would have to be thorough. Unless, of course, he could throw off the entire plan from the beginning. He was currently one of the five hundred wealthiest humans, and in the top four hundred for most powerful. That didn't matter against the Reapers.

He laughed a tiny bit as they put him to sleep for the surgery. Oh yes, even in his dreams, he would win.

* * *

Four Months Later

Jack had tried everything. He was getting no signs of trouble from the Reapers at his attempts to change the memoryscape. It was for certain, not a dreamscape. It was all memories, with his body experiencing the normal amount of pain, physical therapy, tiredness, stress, and exhaustion. Whatever they had done, the Reapers had made all of this so real that it _felt_ real at times.

His hypothesis was simple. The Reapers were analyzing his mind, seeking out the strategies and methods that he would use to counter them, if he had more foreknowledge about them then in the reality that was a complete failure. His eyes had finally recovered, still the brilliant blue that he so vainly loved. He had not been able to change much, as far as he could tell. But so far he had kept the 2140 Olympics from becoming the bomb-ridden disaster that they had normally been. Of course, that was because he had been trying to get more biotic potential in the human race, and had rigged a space ship to explode and create that effect.

Not a single harmful consequence. In fact, the opposite was happening. The Alliance was supposed to be ramping up for confrontation against rebels that didn't exist, in response to the bombing crisis. Now, though, the plans for humanity's first fast attack frigates were being removed from the shipyard, something about peacetime interests. Unacceptable. When the Turians attack in 2157, the Alliance won't be ready in time. Not at the rate they are going.

So, Jack started making a plan. This dreamscape was so detailed that it almost felt like the Reapers were pulling information from more sources than just his own memories. Perhaps the records that were on earth helped them build this dreamlike playground. Jack tested this, walking into random bars and taverns as often as he could, and scheduling random vacations to places that he despised. But in every case he met new people, and of course their background checks verified who they were. The Reapers had a fully realized system. A complete network of people and memories that had him confused.

Shepard wasn't even around yet to help him kill them all. He also had no intention of going through Relay 314, an alpha relay that could dump him anywhere. All of the clues were out there, besides a few known Reaper artifacts on earth, Eden Prime, and Shanxi. He had a list of places to destroy, annihilate, and remove from the history books. But more importantly, he had a plan. If the Reapers wanted a counter-argument to their complete victory, and had him running in their little maze, Jack was going to prove to them that Humanity was more than a threat. Humanity could have won, he was sure. There were too many moments where the Reapers preferred to subvert than achieve total victory. They would not have done so if they believed that Humanity didn't pose a significant threat. They would not have gone to such great effort to subvert _Cerberus_ if it did not pose a great threat.

So, he would give them a show. Prove them right, that their subversions were real. Whether this was what they wanted or not, he didn't know. No actions had been taken to alter the memoryscape from the side of the Reapers. Certain things had changed since he had come into the timeline, and it all could be traced to his own actions. It became harder to trace his spent money, but he could blame his random trips everywhere. So, he had hunted down all of the differences from his memories and this dreamscape. He could feel pain, he could be stabbed, he could be strangled, he could get drunk, and he could feel nicotine again. Now _that_ was something that gave him a bit of comfort. With all of these memories to compare against the memoryscape, he had to do something to keep himself calmed down and focused.

So, cigarettes. The good kind. He had a series of the electronic cigarettes delivered for use when he had a woman over. If Jack Harper was anything, it was that he could enjoy a fine wine, smoke, fight, and to top it all off he would have a fine woman to enjoy as well. So, looking back at his bed, he could see three bottles of wine, a pack of cigarettes, and a model asleep on the covers. Zalia Thern was a wonderful example of humanity. Perhaps he could talk to Henry about putting some of her DNA into Miranda, when he made her. It wouldn't be long now, all things considered. Just in case he already had some of her blood and hair. She was too tired to notice his work, and he didn't have time to sleep with his erstwhile companions.

No, there was too much that needed doing. He could afford to take the time to show off his wealth, his women, as that was expected. He could not afford to come under scrutiny. So, he had to maintain the appearance. More importantly, business had to expand, infrastructure be ready for when the Turians and the Council invaded. Perhaps he should focus more on Shanxi. If perhaps that planet was targeted, and became a security hazard. More military would get transferred there. Jack Harper was not the most infamous bastard of his race for nothing. Of course, in this memoryscape he hadn't formed Cerberus yet. That was only made in response to the fact that aliens did exist, and they did have an agenda. Last month he had created a front company, hiring a few mercenaries and getting a few ships.

Vido Santiago was a very easily manipulated man. He assumed that there was a motive behind his supplier, his clients. Not all of the money involved came from him, of course. Other rich and curious individuals invested in this sort of thing. So a conglomerate of front companies existed, covering the expenses and movements of a mercenary group. Next month they would be sent to Shanxi, to start some trouble. Piracy, rampant violence, and a side dish of targeting pro-military demonstrators. Everything needed to make the angry politicians call in the military. Vido Santiago would die, as he promised to his co worker, Zaeed Massani. Massani had a loyal streak in him. Of course, he had to somehow convince Vido to betray him within the next year in order to create the revenge complex within Zaeed. The drive for this would lead to one of the founding groups of Cerberus.

This time, Jack wasn't going to play nice. Cerberus would rise, and would be ready for when the Turians came. For when Saren Arterius came to Shanxi.

* * *

2152, Earth, Van Jensen Towers, Argentina

Twelve years. Twelve years of tests, work and effort. Jack grimaced. Some of his actions had very real consequences. Shanxi, for instance. Not quite his best work, trying to accelerate the growth of humanity. Vido Santiago had betrayed Zaeed Massani, alright. He nuked the poor bastard when Massani took a bullet through the head and got back up, killing all of the men sent to kill him. So, Vido decided to destroy one of the ships that Jack had gotten him, loading every scrap of Element Zero onboard, and blowing it up right on top of Zaeed. The explosion claimed a quarter of the island they were working at, and released enough Eezo into the air that at least half of the planet would get some form of biotic children at this rate.

Vido then betrayed him for other contacts. Namely a terrorist organization. Calling themselves the Shanxi Reds, and declaring war against the local government, which was Jack's original intention for them to be armed for, they began operations to break down the government of Shanxi. Unfortunately, the Reds had a lot more built up than Jack realized. At this crucial juncture, Jack Harper could only directly see and control the movement of money and goods. He didn't have the AI experts, hacking teams, or spies planted in the secure locations necessary to be able to predict the military response.

The Assembly held off on any decision regarding Shanxi for two weeks. The military was then given the order to go in. By that time, it was too late. The mercenaries couldn't fight any sort of space battle, but they had taken control of the local government. More importantly, budget cuts and lack of ships of any size to bring in armored vehicles broke the Alliance's reaction. Shanxi was put under blockade. Alliance Marines held a few locations on Shanxi, where refugees were fleeing to, but couldn't make any headway against the well armed Reds. Talk of other groups aligning themselves with the Reds was going on all over the cluster, leading to Humanity in chaos.

It was all his fault. He armed the mercenaries with every weapon he could, trusting that the colony's marine contingent was being lead by general Williams, famous for his pragmaticism and preparedness. Instead, General Williams was serving at the Prothean Archive, where a small terrorist action had taken place, damaging the Prothean Beacon. In Jack's eyes the attack was much more critical. The files on the Catalyst had to be removed, it was too much of a threat to his plans.

So, General Hansen was instead in charge of the defense of Shanxi. He assumed that the mercenaries would be poorly armed and armored. His forces got attacked and scattered when the mercenaries stole all of their heavy vehicles and bombarded their headquarters. Vido had been recruiting heavily from the gang-ridden sections of earth. Worse, the colonial militias couldn't even organize before the mercs got to them. The Shanxi Reds had become a full scale revolution, one that the Assembly wasn't ready for and the recovering military wasn't prepared for in the slightest. Arcologies in New York, Chicago, Las Angelos, and other cities in the North American States were rioting in response to the Red's declaration of the Systems Alliance being weak, controlling, and undeserving of their citizenship.

Strikes, riots, and demonstrators were everywhere, parading for or against the Reds. The Assembly had not left the building. So, Jack had to revitalize his plans. The Turians might come to Shanxi and find it in the hands of well armed rebels, or they might just miss the Turians all together if this continued. Relay 314 had been found, but was in the contested zone near Shanxi. No research vessel was allowed near an area known for mercenaries and pirates.

All of this still paled in comparison to the budget that had been issued to the Alliance Military. It hadn't been raised in fourteen years, even with his attacks and raids he had planned. Local militias and police forces all received kinetic barriers and hardsuits, supplied by the government, as the local law enforcement was seen as a better investment than a fleet of ships that couldn't be allowed to investigate crime or do anything more than land troops in emergencies.

From his position in the penthouse suite of the Van Jensen Towers, he could see demonstrators in front of Hiddel Airspace, one of the developers for the combat suits used by the Alliance Marines. They were not very popular right now, as their most recent products had been issued to the Marines going to Shanxi. It had flaws. Many flaws. Being prototype technology, that was understandable. But these flaws all showed in the magnetic grips of the boots. They were functioning improperly, and had not been properly tested for what happened when hit by an Overload. The boots would lock up, making the wearer dead meat to anyone aiming at him.

Hiddel Airspace wouldn't survive the month. Some of their top board members had already committed suicide. The CEO was no where to be found. Jack had money on being somewhere close to the bottom of the Atlantic. Head in his hands, he looked at his old plan, painstakingly handwritten years ago.

_1. Establish Shanxi as Military frontline world_

_2. Encourage Biotics in humans without massive deaths_

_3. Kill Donnel Udina_

Number three he wanted to be fulfilled, but Donnel Udina had yet to become an adult and do something stupid enough to warrant disappearing. Politicians were useful, and there was no guarantee that what he had just done would change his position as Humanity's Ambassador. Number 1 had failed miserably. He had not predicted that Zaeed would force Vido to nuke him. But then Vido had shown signs of imbalance. Number 2 was not as easily accomplished. But he had an in.

Henry Lawson had created a safe amount of Eezo to expose adults to that created the chance of making someone biotic. Or at least their children. So, biotics were coming along, just not in the numbers he needed to have ready for a possible counterattack against the Turians. The first generation of human biotics were coming along, and Jack had already funded the right companies to develop biotic implants. It took considerable force to convince Meridia Corp to design it, but perhaps this time there would be less of the trouble that involved the L2s. It was a pity that he still needed some biotics to experiment on to get there, but Henry provided a large number of clones for the purpose.

Henry was of course, getting suspicious. Jack Harper was a businessman, not a megalomaniacal overlord. At least, this early on Jack had been constrained to that. Which lead to why He was in Argentina.

His Omni-tool, one of the first generation models, and very new, buzzed. "Mr. Harper? A guest is coming up to see you."

"Has he received proper clearance?" Jack calmly replied into the receive

"Yes sir. I sent him with a complimentary bottle of wine for you both."

"Excellent." Merelda. A perfect hostess and example of Argentinian genetics. She had been fantastic the week before, and his hotel stay following had been of exceptionally higher quality as a result. "If I need anything else, I will be sure to let you know."

"Of course Mr. Harper." The line clicked off with a small racket. This first generation lacked many things. Like proper haptic interfaces. They had buttons. He preferred that over touch screen models. His eyes slowly dragged towards the door, his older left eye reaching the door first. His younger and cloned right eye followed, but drifted slightly. Jack didn't mind it so much. He didn't want the cybernetics. When he had upgraded his eye models with supposedly Prothean designs, he had fallen under the sway of the enemy. That wouldn't happen this time.

Though he did miss the zoom feature, infrared, and the ultraviolet. It just paid to be prepared. He barely heard the elevator doors open, at the far end of the hallway. The orderly steps of Henry Lawson came to a stop next to the buffet table prepared earlier.

"Jack! What the hell are you doing?"

"Whatever do you mean, Henry?" He asked, not quite sure what he was complaining about. Or which project. Sometimes it was hard to remember which projects Henry complained about before being Indoctrinated in his actual memories and this memoryscape. He still believed that this was all just the Reaper's playground. He had yet to see their presence, but trusted that it would come. Too many signs still pointed to their existence. The archives, the relays, and certainly the Citadel. It was out there.

"Jack, I know that you funded those mercenaries. One of them was using your directed energy weapon you mentioned. All of their hardsuits were made by Hislopp, with my medical suite installed." Henry was fuming. Ah, so he was worried that I had abused his trust and used him and his technology.

"So what if I did?" Jack casually asked. There were no listening devices here, and nothing could be traced back to him. He knew it. Henry may have just noticed the pattern, the same as anyone could if you were in the game long enough.

"Jack, if we lose Shanxi, we lose the highest concentration of Biotic potential in the human race! Why the hell would you cause this?"

"This was not my intention." Jack told him honestly, sitting down at the table and beckoning for the chair across from him. "I am willing to walk you through my entire thought process, Henry. It is why I invited you here, after all."

"I had to track you down, Jack. I spent two weeks looking for you, only to find you were just sipping wine here in the Towers." Henry did sit down, but was far from alright with the situation. "You want to explain why we might have a hand in the worst tragedy since the Great Wars?"

"Firstly, the leader of these mercenaries now answers to a different client. One that preferred large explosions to smuggling and piracy. My original intentions were to create a rising crime rate on Shanxi, forcing the garrison to ask for help from the military to put down what has now become the Shanxi Reds. This was supposed to take Shanxi and turn it into one of our best defended colonies, where we could create the next generation of biotics in peace.

"The situation went out of control when the man controlling the mercenary company for me was nuked. The very same nuke that started this entire mess. It was also laced with over thirty tons of Element Zero. Most of Shanxi is going to need medical attention for years after this. You don't have to take a side."

"The planet is under blockade, and the military is unable to seize control from the Reds. How can anyone salvage anything from this?" Henry said, looking horrified at the casual mentioning of Jack's mistakes.

"The same way I can look at your genetic efforts to clone female versions of yourself in some sick sense of dynastic authority as simply experiments into the human condition instead of the sickening works that they truly are." Henry looked affronted. Probably was still a secret to everyone else at his labs. "The same way I orchestrated these attacks, with the aim of militarizing our Alliance. I am looking at the much bigger picture. In less than ten years, The Alliance will have either collapsed or become a stronger military power."

He took a sip of his wine, perfectly chilled, thanks to Merelda. "When the Alliance comes out of this, these Reds will be swept away in our new strength. Their supplies will run out eventually. When they do, they will be taken into custody and stripped from their positions." Unfortunately, this army of trained and experienced, albeit rather slightly, mercenaries would not belong to the new Cerberus. His original goal was for these men to be absorbed into what would eventually be Cerberus. Fear was a great motivator. Especially of the things that were dangerous out there.

"They have no fleet to extract them, and no possibility of being backed up. This will resolve itself soon, and you can come in during the chaos, set up a biotic hospital and training center, and we can put together the final piece of the puzzle. Henry, I have engineered this entire situation knowing the consequences. It is only a matter of time."

"What about the rioters on earth? New York Arcology is on fire right now." Henry pointed out.

"They will quiet down as time goes on. These 'Reds' will not last very long. If anything this will be remembered as a scare."

"And if it doesn't calm down, Jack?"

Jack did take a long moment to think about that. "Then I activate a backup plan." He calmly said. "This one is a bit more extreme." He needed some time before anyone was ready for his backup plan. Opening the relay early was risky.

"How extreme?"

"Enough to warrant nuking Shanxi until there is no resistance." Whether the Turians or the Reds were the targets would be up to the Alliance. He didn't have enough pull there.

"Jack, you sound like you are out of your mind." Henry slowly said.

"I might be. Sometimes I have to map it all out before I can understand it. But the patterns are there. I am not the only one seeing this. Others in the Alliance are coming to the same conclusion and will make the same ultimatum."

"Good god, you need a hobby." Henry muttered.

"The wine, the women, and the travelling isn't enough?"

Henry grumbled. "That's not the problem, Jack." He took a long moment to consider his words. "You have been a conspiracy theorist for as long as I have known you. When I started my company, you had legal documents prepared for me to sell my company to every other investor. I thought you were insane, until I realized this was standard procedure for you. You haven't made anything simpler all of these years. But taking this entire Shanxi situation into your own hands, you are almost declaring the government meaningless. Even you can see the pattern there, Jack. I don't want Humanity torn apart by a civil war that you orchestrate."

Henry was smart enough to see between the lines. He just didn't know about the alien threat looming right behind the relay. "What if I told you it is not Humanity I am worried about?"

Henry glared at him. "That threat is unsubstantiated. Aliens _might_ exist. If they do, they _might_ be hostile. You can somehow see an alien threat on the horizon?"

"Henry, I can't give you direct evidence. It is all a pattern to me. We are expanding so fast that we are hardly finding enough planets to get settled on. Eventually we are going to find something that has already done that. When we do, I don't want Humanity to be unprepared for it."

"Jack, your actions are going to get the attention of certain individuals. Do you know that you are being watched?"

Jack knew. There was always someone watching. He was one of the few people on the planet capable of orchestrating a planetary revolt. "I am aware. There are only ten others that could have done what I did. Among them only a couple have any significant interest in off world activities. I know that they are watching me."

"Yeah, well they certainly know how to pick them. Some redhead had been staked out at the bar for hours. The kind you know can't be single. The Alliance put one of their best on your tail, Jack." Henry pulled up his own Omni-tool. The picture showed a face that belonged in his bed or on a model magazine. Perhaps both. His heart stopped beating for a second when he saw the name though.

_Agent Shepard_

_Office of Alliance Intelligence_

"They know what you like, Jack, and they are just waiting to bait you."

Jack smiled. How quaint. On the inside he was panicking. Hannah Shepard was supposed to be on board one of the ships in the Alliance Fleet. Something drastic had changed. She was in the OAI, not the Navy. What inspired that change? It must have been something he did. Her file said she was an O4. Officer. Some time was spent in the force. Jack had been trying to get his agents into the military for years. He needed to keep track of Hannah Shepard and Greg, the Marine that fathered the hero of Humanity.

"Maybe I should spring the trap." He mentioned. Henry guffawed.

"You're serious."

"Of course! An innocent man would take this opportunity. Plus, you were considering going after the hostess downstairs."

Henry nodded. "You've been there first, I would imagine." At his nod, Henry shrugged. "As is usual. I would imagine we are not the first or last in line with her." Henry shared many of Jack's vices. It was why they got along so well.

"Her name is Merelda." Jack said, getting up from the table to grab his designer jacket. "Borrow the suite if you need it."

"Where are you going?" Henry asked.

"To spring the trap. Tonight I will either be in bed with Hannah Shepard or in some sort of prison. Either way I won't be here." Jack said, checking all of his pockets. No weapons. Hannah was probably trained in close combat techniques. All he had was a lighter, his credit cards, a wad of cash, and his cigarettes. Those blessed pieces of calm in his raging memories. This, though, was the first sign of something that might not have been a result of his actions. He had to investigate. "Good night, Henry. Enjoy the food and the room."

"Good night Jack. Don't say anything too forthcoming to the good lady." Henry said, looking a bit worried. Jack couldn't let it bother him, though. His heart rate was on fire, and he was filled with an anxiety that he was unfamiliar with. This was _new._ This wasn't an expected reaction or subtle manipulation coming forth, this was straight up new information. This had the Reapers all over it.

The elevator hit the bottom floor, and Merelda came over to Jack. "Mr. Harper, what can i get you?" She was always right on top of things. But every tool had its use. Merelda was of more use elsewhere currently.

"Merelda, my dear, I need you to take the elevator up to my suite. You'll find everything you need there…" He said, offering a twinkle in his eye that the old cybernetic ones were never able to do. She smiled, a warm glowing smile that might mislead lesser men. But Jack was not a lesser man. He was a very smooth operator. He could see the hints of a frown at the edge of her lips, the slight change in dilation of the eyes, and the tightening of her shoulders. Merelda liked his wallet much more than his charm. Alas, he had more important things to settle. Namely, the redhead in the black dress sitting at the bar, who had been coolly watching him the entire time he had entered the lobby.

"Of course, Mr. Harper." Merelda said, stepping off to the side to find someone to relieve her post. He did own this company, and they knew of his tastes. They would accommodate him or they would be fired. It was simple. Ignoring Merelda as she stepped into the elevator and to the waiting Mr. Lawson, which would keep both of them out of his hair, he moved to the bar.

Hannah Shepard was not someone he had put much effort into before. She wasn't something he had factored in before. Now, he really wished that Henry had just left so he could have contacted his few contacts that he did have. But considering that she was OAI, there really wasn't much he could do. How Henry came by that information left him wondering, but then again he needed some sort of connections to keep his genetic research viable with the politicians.

Now, though, she was here. This was not coincidence. This must have been a direct result of his actions. Unless this was the first thing the Reapers were doing to confound his plans. He had to investigate this. Nor could he chance her leaving and another agent replacing her. Right here and right now, was the antithesis to his plans. Hannah Shepard, according to his memories(Which he had handwritten onto a journal to preserve their clarity years ago), was supposed to become a Naval Officer, hook up with Greg Smith, and create the hero of the galaxy that Jack was pinning his plan on.

She had no wedding band on, or any sign of a tan line left by one. He could see that from her hand that was on the bar. So, Greg wasn't in her life yet. Or perhaps her life was no longer compatible with the existing scenario. Being in the Intelligence division might make a life with Greg impossible. That would mean that Shepard, hero of the galaxy, might not even be born. The Reapers may have already won this time around with just one move.

He fought the urge to grit his teeth. His plans and actions would mean nothing if Shepard wasn't coming. He was not the charismatic leader of the revolution that he had originally dreamed of being. Jack Harper was the details specialist. He had to admit, being the leader of Cerberus was fun for its purposes, but it had never panned out. It had never become the force of nature that could topple governments and resurrect Humanity in a glorious new image. Unless what you would call the Reaper plan could be considered.

"Bring me a New Alexandria. 2131." Jack said without looking at the bartender. But he knew the man heard him. It was expected that when Jack Harper orders a drink in his own hotel, he gets it. Not thirty seconds afterward there was a bottle and a glass with a temperature filter on the side of it. Perfectly chilled liquid just was one of those luxury inventions that mankind could pride itself on. He didn't actually like the New Alexandria vintage as much as others, but their bottles were highly reflective surfaces.

With it, he could finally take the time to study this version of Hannah Shepard. Young, at least currently, mid to late twenties, he would imagine. Shepard got her beauty from Hannah, for certain. She also got her facial features, hair color, and yet did not have her eyes. Those must have come from Greg. She did not have that inner beauty that normally attracted his attention, or the model body that he usually held as the most important quality in his partners. Still, she did have some grasp of herself. There were no bulges in her dress to suggest that she was armed, but the muscle tone in her arms was a good warning. She could probably win in a fight against Jack.

Unless Jack was prepared for that. His designer jacket had a number of wonderful additions. Firstly, a system to activate kinetic barriers around himself, something he insisted on. Adjusting his lapels activated the system. It was weak, inefficient, and lasted for a minute or two before needing a recharge. But it was one of the first generation barrier systems. The second was an integrated medical suite built into the shoulder pads. He would be able to notice poison or inhalants any time he was wearing this jacket. A minor fortune, but Jack was a paranoid man. He did have the right to defend his interests.

A holdout gun was hidden along both sleeves, and Jack had practiced for hours to be able to assemble it within fifteen seconds. That was a bit more expensive. But the signature material and shape of his jacket was one that hid the weapon quite well. He hoped he wouldn't need it for Hannah. Her dress was one of those comfortable luxury ones. Loose enough to hint at curves, but tight enough to give you an idea of what was actually there. Loose enough to hide a knife or extremely small pistol in a few places. He grinned into his drink. Perhaps that might be the highlight of his night, checking a known threat to his entire plan for weapons.

He took a long drink, and brought out his Onmi-tool. They had only been released for a few weeks, and the sight of the glowing device got some amount of attention. They were expensive. That fortunately would change with time, engineered technology, and some pre-planned competition in the form of alien companies. That would drive human industry to rapid expansion. He would do his best to create hype in the mean time.

Typing up a message, he sent to his two contacts in the Alliance Marines to check for a Greg Smith and find out where he was. It was essential that he be found and gathered. From his memories, and the memory-Hannah's own words, Shepard got her inner fire and drive from her father's genes. That was something that made Shepard something more than Humanity as a whole could offer.

Finishing his message, he locked down the Omni-tool and set it down, anything he could do further from this location not being necessary at this time. So, with nothing to do but find more excuses to examine his target, Jack Harper drank. This wine was one of those more earthy tasting ones. Not exactly his favorite. But the bottle was more important. Hannah took her time to check over his clothes, ostensibly looking for a weapon or some other tool in his suit.

She was most certainly here for him. He couldn't simply let her go on like this, guessing at his intentions. He waved the barkeep over, who acted as fast as humanly possible to exit his thrilling conversation with some of the attorneys here to manage the complete failure that was Hiddel Airspace. It's breakup would be accomplished over the next few weeks. They of course wanted the best of comforts to work from while the Hiddel employees tried to barter for their company's holdings.

"Make sure that the lady gets a glass." Jack said, pointing to the bottle he had in front of him. The barkeeper earned his pay and more when he simply fetched another bottle to pour from rather than sully Jack's bottle. Hannah gave him a winning smile when she received her glass of wine. The bottle did not follow the glass, but was kept within easy reach. Jack let the man go with a nod, knowing that at any moment he could call upon him again. Then, as casually as he could, he went back to his Omni-tool and started reading one of the news stories on the riots here in the city.

He didn't have to wait long. Hannah slid over to the seat right next to his own.

"I take it that was your invitation?"

"Take it as you will. You were bored in my hotel. Everyone else here seems to be occupied or otherwise interested. Yet here is one guest that seems to be uninterested in the current events nor are they among our guest list. So my invitation is one based on both suspicion and curiosity."

Hannah immediately got comfortable. At least one sign that she really was there to observe him. "Do you make it a point of knowing all of your clients?" Her voice was trained to sound a little bit hopeful. But Jack had all of the knowledge of two lifetimes on interpreting body language.

"I make it a point to know all of my clients that don't fit a certain mold. Most importantly, why you don't register on any of the guest books." With that, he took a long drink of his wine. He really wished that this brand tasted better.

"My name is right there in the books, Mr. Harper." she stated, almost grinning.

"Perhaps it is, perhaps it isn't. My security officer alerted me that your identity did not match up to the card you brought with you." Jack told her, looking at her directly for the first time. The reflection in the bottle was helpful, but didn't do the woman justice. He noticed a scar hidden underneath one of her shoulders, and some skin discoloration along her collarbone. Most likely from domestic violence. Old, the colors mixing almost perfectly into her skin. "My concern is that I have an Alliance officer in my bar that has no reason to be here other than to contact someone."

Hannah's eyes were hard. But her face hadn't shifted at all. "You seem to be insinuating something about me. I trust you won't complain if a girl has some secrets."

"It depends on the secrets you have. Your name is most certainly not Allison."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" She asked him. Probably interested in his contacts, which at this time he had none. Thank God for Henry Lawson. Well, then he had nothing to lose since he had no one to reveal.

"The same man who told me your real name." He casually mentioned. He desperately wanted a cigarette right now, but that might come off as a nervous habit. Which it was. You don't go through two lifetimes of memories without at least some crutch or escape. "If you wanted my attention, you have it. What does the Alliance need from me, that they are willing to send you?"

Hannah grinned. Let her think she had the advantage for now. "The Alliance has no need of your services or tactics, Mr. Harper."

"Yet here you are at my hotel, most likely with a team in support of your surveillance. You have something you want or need, and I am hoping to deal with it before questions start being asked. My clients expect a certain amount of privacy, you must understand."

"Oh, it is your clients that I am worried about, Mr. Harper. Very specific clients." she said, but never took her eyes off of him.

"Please, call me Jack." He offered. If nothing else happened, Jack would never break character in front of her.

"My name is Allis-"

"Your real name, please. I don't deal with secrets very easily." He said, smiling.

"I truly go by Allison." She countered, unperturbed.

Jack laughed a bit. "My contacts tell me you go by Hannah."

Her gaze travelled down to her cup. "Hannah is my middle name. Your contacts are misinformed, Jack."

He would not flinch. This blatant lie must be something that the Reapers had done. He had done nothing to anyone near Shepard for good reason. In order for his plan to go forward, Shepard had to be born under the right circumstances. Something had been done to Hannah Shepard. He hadn't done it. If he had, he didn't know how he did.

"All I have is a notification that an intelligence officer is at my bar. A Staff Leuitenant, at that. I don't much else about your background or details about your life." At this point, all of this was true. "That does not mean I am not interested in hearing about it. What is all this about?"

"At this time, you should worry more about your clients, Mr. Harper. We don't have anything to tell you or alert you to." Hannah smiled. He would not call her Allison. That would be letting the Reapers win, even on a small level. "Thank you for the drink. Next time perhaps something a bit more tasteful?" She said, standing up and walking back to her seat.

Jack gritted his teeth and drank more of the earthy wine. She gave him only one more glance before pulling out her own mobile device and settling back into her chair comfortably. He took all of this in, and contemplated, running through the scenarios in his head. It was not coincidence that she was here.

His Omni-tool vibrated. Glancing down at it, he scowled.

_Greg Smith is MIA, according to the AAR of the troops that attacked Shanxi's port. His body was not recovered, nor was around 200 others. Intelligence reports place him in three possible locations. Dead on the field, in hiding and fighting a guerilla action, or a prisoner of the mercenaries. Local agents can't narrow down the possibilities. Greg Smith is a Commander, and most of his files are classified. Trained as a Spec. Forces Operative. _

Jack kept up his scowl, sending another message to his few remaining contacts in the now-subverted Shanxi Reds. He used one of the contact users that the Reds were familiar with, one of their clients and suppliers. Little did they know he had stopped supplying them.

_One of your prisoners taken in the fighting might be a high value target. I need a list of the prisoners taken in the fighting, It will be worth your time._ Jack then left a large amount of money as a potential bribe. It was less than ten minutes later that he got a confirmation of a reply, from three of the five contacts he messaged. Greg Smith was among the names. As were fourteen other unlucky men and women. _Ransom and Execution to occur tomorrow_. Jack gritted his teeth. They were going to kill him. He divided up the money between the three contacts, letting them all know that he appreciated their honesty. They wouldn't remain contacts for long, all things considered. Within a month this entire situation would become impossible for the mercenaries to maintain. But the military had no plans to go down there in force again for a while.

Jack couldn't convince anyone to keep him alive when the leaders of the Reds answered to someone else. But he needed Greg Smith alive. This called for some well deserved nicotine. Lighting up a cigarette, he heard the sound of footsteps leaving. His bartender had left him a small bowl for his cigarette and had topped off his glass. All while not alerting him. That was dedication. Or just a very real fear of being fired for bad behavior. Jack could at least let him have a large tip as compensation. He probably got paid this much in a month, but the amount of comfort he was creating in Jack's life was worth it.

He couldn't let Greg Smith die. But at the same time he didn't have any Cerberus Commandos, Kai Leng, Miranda, or any of his old dependable lot of minions. Nor did he have anyone who could shoot a gun readily at his disposal. The closest thing he had was Zaeed. He had been nuked. Well, he could always try to create some false signal and send in the cavalry. But they were still using those Biddel Airspace armors. They would get torn apart. At current conjecture, Greg Smith would be executed tomorrow.

Unless Jack took a serious risk. Ashland Hislopp had just completed their prototype space yacht for him. It was the fastest spacecraft that he could both afford and build, which made it humanity's best. The military might have had better engine technology, but Jack had slipped in an extra large element zero core.

_Prep the Talon for launch. Will be there within 4.25 hours._ He sent to his contact in Ashland. He didn't have anything other than a ship and a prayer of this new plan working. But he needed someone with guns and the knowledge of how to use them. Jack had fired his in practice, but had never quite gotten that soldier mentality down in this memoryscape. In his previous set of memories he had been a soldier for a short time. Perhaps it was his hatred for traditional authority, or his need to question everything. Either way he did not enjoy any thoughts of being a soldier this time around.

His memories showed him entering the armed forces, but that only slowed down his plans. In his old life he had run into a Reaper artifact during his time in the military. Going from what he remembered, he had already found and destroyed it. He didn't feel like slowing down his plans within this memoryscape the Reapers had him caged inside. He could accomplish more without the connections he made last time. Four years for two lousy contacts that betrayed him in the end? Then again, he was Indoctrinated. They did have some logic behind their decisions.

He needed some guns and some people that knew how to shoot them. Loyalty would be questionable in any group that he went to, and he would be subject to even more intense scrutiny if he tried to hire any other mercenary group that was open. His motives would be questioned in every case he was considering. All but one would lead to eventual incarceration and jail time.

He groaned, but got up from his chair anyways. Walking calmly over to Hannah, he sat down beside her.

"Here for the next drink already?" She said. "My notes tell me you don't usually do this unless you have quite the dry spell."

"You are here about Shanxi." He stated. Her eyes darted towards her drink. "Your suspicions have merit. If you want to confirm or deny them, you are going to come with me in the next few minutes when my shuttle gets here. There is a situation developing that requires the expertise of someone more militarily minded than I."

She had to think about this for a moment. "Wait, what?"

"You heard me." He let some cigarette smoke go past her face. "Five minutes until my shuttle gets here. You have until then to decide." By God he hoped she would make the choice that ended with Greg Smith alive and well. From there, Jack ignored her attempts to get his attention. He walked to the elevator, and flagged down the concierge. Merelda was upstairs, which means that her replacement had to do. Jaime was a decent replacement. He was slightly underappreciated, and overpaid. In his expert opinion, not worth the time he would spend talking to him.

"Jaime. There is a bag in my room that I need. It is at the foot of my bed, and is the only bag in sight. Get that, along with my wallet on the table. I need it in two minutes." He said in a no nonsense manner. Jaime actually did his job and rushed up the elevator. Jack didn't want to interrupt Henry if he could avoid it. Sending Jaime would be considerate. Going up there himself would just be rude.

He turned back to the bar, where he could see Hannah still staring at him, wondering if he really was going to do this. Jack wasn't sure. His entire plan rested on Hannah and whatever team she had as backup. Since he had the time, he made another message to his contact at Ashland-Hislopp.

_Send four of the newest hardsuits to the Talon. Add in three of your new Lancer rifles and any sniper rifles still in the experimental stage. Add some Hammer shotguns and some pistols that seem workable. Include some grenades and the kinetic barrier suites inside each of the hardsuits. I will cover the costs. _

After finishing the message, and cursing the technology for not being intuitive enough. The future would bring great things. But by the time he had finished typing, Jaime had come with his bag. He was also straight faced. Henry must still be in the dining phase of the seduction. Either that or he found Merelda not to his tastes. At least he could safely say that he offered him the best.

Hannah saw him directing Jaime with his bag. She got up immediately. She marched towards him, any training on civilian actions gone as she approached. Even with those heels she walked like all the recruits were trained in boot camp. "What did you mean back there? About Shanxi?"

"Everything you want to know or can guess at." He calmly replied, as he noticed people clearing the way outside. "My pilot is here. Are you in?"

"I'm on assignment, I can't just leave!" she said, looking towards the elevator. So she wasn't here for him, but rather for someone else. Oh well, their loss.

"Allison." Hannah, in his mind. "I have need of someone trained by the Alliance for special operations. I am going to Shanxi right now. Your mission, important as it may be, will be eclipsed in importance by this one."

She started walking with him. "Shanxi is under military blockade, you can't just go past it!"

He turned and looked her in the eye. "Humanity itself is at stake if I don't. I normally don't involve myself directly, but this time is a special occasion. You and your team are invited to join me. But if you are coming, the time is now." The shuttle was coming down, and as he walked it started blowing the coats of the people surrounding him. His was heavy, and barely moved. She noticed that, he was sure.

"Why should I even trust you?" She yelled over the sound of the shuttle.

"You'll never know why if you don't get on right now!" He said, directing Jaime to place his bag in the back and stepping gingerly onto the shuttle's seats. These first generation ones just weren't that comfortable, and shook terribly. But he sat down, blowing the last ounce of smoke from his cigarette and handing the butt to Jaime. He took it and moved to deposit it immediately. "You coming?" He had to yell. The shuttle was just too loud.

She had a moment of indecision, and then stepped onto the shuttle. "My team is en route. They didn't catch up yet."

"How long?"

"Thirty minutes. They'll be-"

"Too late. My shuttle is leaving. I have already secured armor and weapons." At this she looked over at him, with a look that could almost be called hostile. "If you want to know why I am doing all this, you can either watch the news tomorrow or be there with me as we make history." He said, settling back into the seat cushion.

"You sound insane!" She yelled back.

"It is relative." After what he had seen, most certainly. "Are you going to watch the news or help me?"

She glared at him for a moment. "I guess it is relative. I'll go, just to make sure you get arrested. Or committed." Jack smiled. "Whatever end comes first, I suppose." She stated finally.

"Let's make history!" He said, tapping the glass and letting the pilot know that they should get started. Like a well paid and well trained minion, he took off without a moments notice and the door closed at almost one hundred feet. He put on a headset and spoke into it. "Ashland-Hislopp. Once we are over international boundaries go as fast as you can. They are expecting us in hanger B at their headquarters."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hannah got over her decision within minutes. Then she had to get in contact with her superiors and explain what she was doing. _That_ looked like a very uncomfortable conversation. Probably one with deeper consequences for him, since he did nearly abduct her. This would all lead to some awkward questions, but that Jack could deal with. He had lawyers and money to keep them distracted and hunting for evidence that he had long since cleansed and removed.

So the only consequences were him bring brought into the limelight, and being the subject of rumor and focus from the government. He could deal with the investigations, What he didn't need was the added scrutiny. But he didn't have much choice. He needed the Turian invasion to get the push for Cerberus. Until then, he had to focus on building up the infrastructure of Humanity. He calmly waited for Hannah to finish her talk with her superiors, and in the meantime drank some water and ate a nutrition bar. Shuttles had yet to get all of the amenities that he was used to. Thankfully his shuttle was stocked from his last trip.

He cleaned the outside of his coat with a lint roller and made sure that his hair was in place. He had to look impeccable when he landed, and most certainly not in a rush. He had the time to wait. When Hannah finally came back and sat down, she looked angry.

"We have been ordered to land. You are going to be brought in for questioning, Mr. Harper." She said, looking resolute. Jack just laughed. Nothing could impede him more than an investigation.

"Negative." He dismissed, knowing his pilot could hear them. "If we don't act now Humanity will suffer and the trouble on Shanxi will spread. Before you ask, no, your incompetent military cannot do a better job. They are the reason we are going there in the first place."

They were interrupted by the pilot over the intercom. "Sir, I have Alliance fighters inbound demanding I change my course. Orders?"

"James, ask them who their commanding officer is. Comply with them but be ready to resume our course when I figure this out."

Hannah scoffed at this. "You think you can simply ignore this? My superiors are going to question you about all of this, once we land."

"Sir," James replied. "General Garfield of the Earth Defense fleet is the one in charge of the fighters. They will be all over us in three minutes."

"Comply, James. I will get in contact with someone and they will let us go." Jack told him. "Also, are you rated for larger craft, James?"

"Uh, yes, sir." He said uncomfortably. Jack was known to be very demanding on his staff. The pilot probably assumed he was going to be sent on some other task somewhere boring.

"Good. I'm going to expand your duties. I'll need your services on our next leg of the journey. You'll stay as my pilot and get a nice pay grade increase fitting your duties. The specs for the new craft will be uploaded to your phone momentarily." He said, cutting the connection right after James stuttered some form of thanks. He glanced at Hannah, who was looking smugly at him, probably imagining him on some sort of torture table. He activated his Omni-tool and brought up its call functions. He disabled the normal encryptions and sent his call to a certain office in New York.

"This is the office of Senator Scott. How may I assist you?" A crisp voice answered. Hannah started to frown.

"Angelina, this is Jack Harper. Is she free to talk right now?" Jack didn't let a smile show on his face. After seeing President Scott and her secretary in his memories, he decided to advance that timetable in his memoryscape. Now it was going to pay back rather nicely.

"Jack! How nice to hear from you! Are you coming to New York anytime soon?"

"Sadly, not within the next couple of days, though I do have a meeting there sometime next week." He paused so that Angelina would understand that he wasn't calling as a simple social grace. "I need to talk to the Senator. One of her generals has decided that my shuttle is illegally travelling."

"Oh, Jack! That sounds horrible! I'll get her right away!" Hannah started to get up from her seat, looking annoyed with him. He gave her a look and raised an eyebrow. She didn't come close enough to be picked up by the microphone, but she was noticeably close enough to hear whatever he was going to say to Scott. That didn't matter.

"Jack, what's going on?" The voice of Senator Scott came into the omni-tool. Scratchy, but the technology to improve that would come from the Asari soon enough.

"Dierdre." Senator and future President of the Alliance Dierdre Scott was not exactly beautiful and not exactly dulcet-voiced, but she had a sharp wit and a memory that never forgot a slight. "One of your attack dogs in the Defense fleet is trying to submit me to questions. My company was just implicated in the Shanxi issue. I was on my way to Ashland-Hislopp to gather the information that your board of investigation will no doubt need, but I can't do that from behind bars."

"You are asking quite a bit from me, Jack. I can't simply let you go without some sort of promise." Dierdre said. Thankfully Jack had spoken to her enough to know that she was at least considering it.

"Dierdre, I can offer at least two hundred million in donations from businesses and individuals for your next campaign. I can fund it on my own, but I don't think you need any fingers pointed."

Her laugh was cold. "Let me, guess, Jack. You'll be paying through front companies and employee records? No, if I am agreeing to this I want this through honest donations. Perhaps you can host a dinner in my honor, too?" He would have to to get the donations, and it wasn't bad press to support Dierdre. He just didn't want the spotlight.

"You have a deal. I'll be in New York next week to finalize the arrangements."

"I look forward to it, Jack. Now, I have a bulldog to leash." Her side of the call ended with a click. Hannah was looking at him, annoyed and astounded, he would assume. Though her eyes flashed with anger when he glanced up at her.

He said nothing, waiting for her to demand, to tirade, to yell. She did none of those things. She simply sat down across from him. "You just put two hundred million credits on the line in order to finish this?"

Jack nodded. "Humanity is never not worth saving. No matter how much money I lose or lose the chance of gaining, I will always act in its best interest." Perhaps Cerberus wasn't quite the interest Humanity needed this time around, all things considered. It wasn't the best for Humanity to have something that directly threatened the STG and other groups. The bad press and the poorly managed initiatives only created distrust. Though he could blame the Reapers for mismanaging him as a resource.

"So, this is all for some ideal you have in your mind?" She asked coolly.

"You could say that. I just happen to have a lot more pieces to the puzzle that is our race than you do. This mess on Shanxi is only the start of our problems." Problems with a large tentacled metallic monster representing them.

"Your ego claims much, Mr. Harper." Hannah scolded. "So, do you think that your stunt with the Senator is going to work?"

He grinned. James spoke up about thirty seconds later, thankfully just within the timetable for his cheeks not to burn from being in the smirk they had been. "Sir, the fighters have been called off. Returning to previous course. And, um, thank you for whatever you just did sir."

"Your flight record will remain impeccable, James." Jack said. He then activated his Omni-tool and went through the complicated process of sending the specs on the _Talon_ to the pilot's terminal. James' phone wasn't quite smart enough to be able to receive the file. "There are the specs you need to have down before we land. That will be your next hot seat."

Hannah got his attention again, noticing the file transfer. "So we are going to a ship. What, pray tell, will a civilian ship be useful for?"

Jack smirked. "Getting to Shanxi before our objective has expired."

"We? I think you are confusing the situation. I won't be helping you unless you are going to give me full disclosure." Hannah said, looking more like an officer and not a women dressed for a party.

"I can give partial disclosure. I can't verify the other information you might want yet." More like preferred not to at this point, as he didn't have enough factual sources to reference to prove anything. "I needed someone who could shoot and know when not to shoot. I am taking you to Shanxi, where we will go in and rescue a group of captured Alliance Marines. Among them there is one who I have personally invested in. He is the test bed for a number of genetic modifications that I and my associates hope to pass on to the rest of the armed forces." Jack said clearly and concisely. Hannah took a moment to absorb the information, her eyebrows furrowing. The one on the left was longer than the one on the right, he noticed.

Proving that Greg Smith was a testbed would not be hard. Henry owed him a few favors and Greg would be the man to provide them. "Why is he needed so desperately?" Hannah finally asked.

Jack scowled. This time for effect. "He is the only survivor that had the modifications. I need him alive to make millions of credits of investment return. My contacts report that he is being held on Shanxi in the Red's most tightly controlled area."

Hannah shot him a look. "Tell me about your contacts."

"Do you promise to keep them a secret until the situation becomes clear?"

She scoffed. "We both know I couldn't. Shanxi is on everyone's mind. Any information that can help answer the questions will be investigated thoroughly."

Jack pulled out a cigarette. This was more to make her uncomfortable than the get rid of any nervousness. That would be impossible when the mother of Humanity's hero was in a shuttle with him and he was risking everything. But it did help him feel like he still had a measure of control over the situation. "I'll answer that question when we get to Shanxi. All you need to know right now is that if they were revealed this early in the game we would not be able to accomplish our mission."

"Your mission. I still have yet to agree to this. Right now all I see is an egotistical billionaire worried about his investment." Though she probably suspected worse. He would, in her situation.

"You will agree, though. Once I show you the answers about Shanxi." He paused to blow some smoke towards the air filter. The vent was conveniently to her left. He could still stare her down. "I'll offer you a deal, just as I offered Dierdre. I'll give you all the information you need to sort out this mess, and in exchange you get my subject back."

"You'll need some proof to even convince me a little bit, Mr. Harper." She replied, but didn't outright disregard him.

"The name of the man you'll want to kill is Vido Santiago. He leads the Shanxi Reds that are causing the mayhem. He doesn't have much of a criminal record, but he fought in the wars in Africa a few years ago. Nothing about his file there stands out other than his kill count." Which was never verified. Africa had enough problems. "Call me Jack. If we are going to be working together I would prefer it to be on a first name basis. I don't usually get this forthcoming to women in the military. Or people in general." Their predictability and uniformity made them rather boring after a while. The physical features that he cared for usually got disturbed by musculature during basic training. Hannah was an exception to most of this, lacking the same musculature but wasn't exactly what he normally looked for.

"How did you come by this information?" Hannah asked. She was at least not demanding that they get on the comm with her superiors again. That would just require another very expensive favor.

"I happen to know a few of the larger players. I will disclose everyone involved as part of your investigation." He set up the board, the players, the pieces. He would have to set up Vido as the inspiration behind all this. Though he still had questions himself. The Shanxi Reds had gone under new management, and he had not been able to see it coming. Though, unlike his days in Cerberus where he carefully monitored everything his employees and minions did, he couldn't afford to do that yet.

"Say I believe you. What do you need me for?"

Jack showed his open palm to her. "I need someone who can slip inside the Red's controlled area and extract a soldier. I can't fire a gun without a lot of technological assistance to be of any use," A complete lie, but she had to feel like she was the better combatant. "So I need you. I had enough weapons and armor prepared for your entire team, but I guess you will have to do. I know where they are keeping him and where they are quartered."

"How? Shanxi has been under a blockade, nothing is coming in or out!" Hannah demanded.

"The old radio stations can still send messages. I send mine encrypted into the emergency relief station's broadcasts. These are unfiltered and can always reach their target." Jack said calmly. In reality he owned the telecommunications network on Shanxi through a front company. The military bands were operating on his hardware. They hadn't been able to afford to set up their own yet. Hopefully that would change soon. Of course, that didn't mean he also used the old radio bands as well. Every man needs backups. Having the experiences of living once, he had been placing secondary plans within all existing possibilities.

Except, of course, Hannah Shepard. That he didn't plan for, and now it was biting him. Though even if he did plan for it, he would have to exert his influence in the military too early. His memories told him that he had initiated the Cerberus movement due to the strong xenophobia that existed at the time of the Turian invasion. That might have to change. If he wanted Cerberus to survive this time, he might have to change the original objectives. Advancing Humanity, well, Jack would be offended deeply if he had to give up that. He truly believed in Humanity, even in the depths of Indoctrination. He wasn't going to give that up.

"So let me ask this. Why do you care so much?" Hannah asked carefully. "This isn't something that people like you risk your lives over. Why not just send some henchmen or hired guns?" At least she was frank about it. Even when mentioning illegality and everything. "Any asset that would be capable was not close enough to deploy." Or were nuked and were therefore not able to deal with this. "Everything I had to deal with a mess like this is deployed or otherwise occupied. So, I went with the remaining options. Namely, you, or possibly the Romanos cartel for enough hired muscle to get the job done. You are the supposed cheaper option, but after what I had to do to get rid of our fighter problem,"

"_Your_ fighter problem."

"_My_ fighter problem, then. But you were supposed to be the easier option. Not quite true after everything was said and done. Either way they also took control of some of mr board member's assets on the planet. Terryl Construction is the company assigned to develop the colony. Their corporate headquarters were designed inside of a mountainside overlooking the main colony development. It is immune to orbital bombardment." By design, of course. No need to mention that. "It is also quite the scenic view, or so i have heard. Either way, there was no easy way of dislodging the Reds once they set up shop in the headquarters. Thankfully, my board member has given me the blueprints and the code keys to get anywhere we want to go within the building."

"So, that's your in? You have blueprints and an Alliance agent. You think that will be enough to successfully lead a prison break?"

"I only want one man. The rest of the captured marines are the concern of the Alliance, though if given the chance I would not mind saving them." Jack said. "My investment is worth more than the entire platoon's training three times over." A small number for someone that just became critical to his plans. In reality it was something more like four billion credits. To start. He chuckled a bit at his own joke, which made Hannah react.

"Those are soldiers that put their lives on the line for us! Don't mock them!"

"I apologize. I was considering something partially related. Their lives are worth the time and effort, no matter how small or large. Though I sincerely hope that they are still alive when we get there." Jack told her honestly. She still had her love and respect for the rest of the armed forces, but the fact that she was in Intelligence meant something changed. She said nothing to him after his apology, not expecting it. Though it was rare, Jack did try to apologize more in this memoryscape that the Reapers shoved him in. Death made him at least more considerate. Even if some of those apologies only came when forced by legal intentions.

"So, Allison," Hannah, he almost said. "What is your opinion on the budget cuts recently?"

She gave him a quizzical look. "Why is this important?" Ah, she didn't trust him. Well, to be fair, he had only given half-truths and unfulfilled promises so far. She didn't trust him enough with her political opinion. Or she didn't care. But being in the military, she probably did care on some level.

"Every question that has consequences is important. This entire Shanxi situation has everything to do with the budget cuts. So, what _is_ your opinion on the matter?" He asked, bringing his hands in front of him and letting his cigarette just get held for now. The nicotine wasn't calming him down anyways.

She looked almost angry for a moment. Something got personal, then. With women that could be more than a few things, but for Hannah he was willing to bet that it was related to the topic. Or she might just be thinking about dragging him into custody. "I disagree with them, for certain." She said carefully. "Why would you say that about this situation?"

"Shanxi only had a militia system in place. That militia was armed with Mark I Rutger rifles, which have some of the worst heat dissipation technology on the market. First generation gear that couldn't punch through a solid wall. They made a good target for a group like the Reds. Shanxi is also high in silicates and is rich in natural resources. A developing gem of a colony, yet poorly defended."

"We haven't had to defend our colonies before!" Hannah snapped.

"Then this is a first. Well armed and armored mercenaries with time, preparation, and some sort of plan for Shanxi have landed and taken it over. They were in place days before the military responded, and they knew the technology used by the marines and were prepared for them. So, the budget cuts affect all of this. The lack of monetary gain mean that the Alliance chose the Biddel armor line." He then brought the cigarette back up to his mouth and sucked in, as this all felt rather uncomfortable to be divulging this information. "The Biddel armor line has issues with the magnetic lining in the boots. Strong electrical discharges can cause the legs to lock up, and the magnetic lining to activate. This caused the death of almost every single marine that landed in the spaceport, due to the magnetic lining issue." Hannah looked horrified. This information had not completely propagated through the entire media yet. The Alliance had been quiet about their defeat so far, but the Shanxi situation was going to come out.

"So they got wiped out?"

"The casualty rate was excessive, yes. The few survivors were the ones captured by the Reds. Or they have been quiet and are still fighting a ground battle somehow. I don't know if any of the other testbeds for our gene mods are surviving in other places, since the names of the dead have not been released." It was doubtful that it would be released for a while, if the mercenaries were hard to wipe out. "That is why I am taking such drastic action. Do you see why I approached you?"

"But the Alliance-"

"Doesn't have the capability or people in place to get the job done. I don't have much but I will make an attempt. The Alliance will probably see what I am doing a bit differently." Jack admitted. In reality if the Alliance intervened at all, past this point, he would be detained and no favors would let him escape. Jack looked down at his omni-tool, which had lit up with a message.

_Talon is prepared and armor and weapons are supplied. Pre-flight checks will be done before you arrive. Want to file a flight plan to begin with? I can file that for you and have it cleared in an hour. _

_ Todd Hislopp_

Todd, chairman and director of Ashland Hislopp, was a colleague that Jack could depend on. He didn't ask why the _Talon_ was needed, but helped him anyways. Jack spent the next fifteen minutes plotting out his path to Shanxi, one that was both fast and avoided Alliance patrol routes. Thankfully he knew what those would be from memory. Plotting those and then marking the coordinates into his first generation omni-tool, he filed them all into a nice little script and sent them to Todd.

_The Talon's pilot is coming with me, but I would prefer to have some people on hand to help. What is the skeleton crew size that the ship can run on?_ He typed. He didn't remember some of the details of his craft, having been more focused on the developing Shanxi situation.

_Five. I have already provided an engineer for the core and would like to offer your choice of any staff members outside of my secretary. Since you have a pilot I can assume you will be in charge of navigation, freeing up those two on the roster. The other staff members mentioned are the cleaning crew and chef._ Was the reply from Todd within minutes. He would owe him a large favor in the future, but Jack grinned. It was worth it. Last time he hadn't gotten himself a yacht until Cerberus was well underway. This time he would enjoy that a bit earlier.

_Skip the chef and send me some takeout meals from the local best. I will return within a few days, so a few warmed meals will be fine. As such, I won't need a cleaning crew either. I'll get someone on that when I return to my people and spare you any losses in payroll. I do thank you for the engineer, though. I don't have anyone on hand of the right skill set._ He typed back. Nodding to himself, he was about to take his hand off of the Omni-tool when it lit up again.

This time it was populated by a list of restaurants and style of food. That cheeky bastard had predicted that he would ditch the chef. Clever. It also had a list of options for wine by the vineyard and year. Todd was going to get himself a new yacht himself when all the favors were paid back, probably. Jack grinned and started filling out his orders, sending them to Todd and forwarding them to his secretary, who was for certain helping him get all of this done. She was stolen from his company while he had helped Todd establish Ashland-Hislopp. Before he finished using his Omni-tool, he typed a quick message to Henry.

_Henry, thanks for the tip. You can have the room. I won't be there for a while. We are going to take my yacht out for a trip. Though you might want to be paying attention to the news in a couple of days. It could be scandalous._ Hopefully Henry would be prepared to bail him out if things went south. He had in the past and this time around, Jack hadn't insulted him or treated him poorly. Last time he had treated Henry like a colleague who got too attached to his floundering business. This time he helped fund it and paid him back for the eye surgery and other such related expenses in full.

_So you really did lead her on? Didn't know that Alliance agents were so easily taken advantage of. Best of luck to you, and I'll have a hospital ready room for you just in case._

Henry would be ready. But a more pressing concern was Jack's navigation plan. He didn't have anyone on hand to do that for him on the _Talon._ So he had to get up to speed on it. Pulling up the specs on his Omni-tool, he started reading.

"What are you doing now?" Hannah asked. For the calls and messages she had been quiet, though probably more than a little curious. Intelligence agents often were. She didn't have much access to anything for communications and no one from her superiors had tried to get in contact with her since she had called them.

"Are you familiar with starship navigation?" He asked her. He finally got some sort of idea for keeping her busy.

"Well, actually, yes, I am." Hannah admitted. "It's been a few years but I know some basics."

Jack nodded. "My craft needs someone to follow a very precise navigation path. You feel up to doing that?"

"Do you trust me enough to do that?" She said clearly. He may have to take a calculated risk in this, but if it meant Hannah Shepard agreeing with him it might be worth it.

"I do. I expect the best from someone who has sworn oaths to protect our government." That's why his recruits from the Alliance into Cerberus were the hardest to rationalize certain decisions to. "So, want to be in charge of Navigation or not?"

"What if I lead you the wrong way? My only experience has been on stations, you realize." She snarked.

"Alright, you are going to handle the armory when we get onboard. I had a few experimental weapons placed onboard, as well as some decent armor. While you get used to your weapons, I will study the navigational controls." Jack transferred the specs he had on the armor and weapons that he knew about to a datapad. These filled up most of the memory, so he disabled its communications drivers and made sure it was secure before handing it to Hannah. No sense in letting experimental corporate secrets get out. Even if they were such low tech.

Once she had the datapad, she looked up at him. "Still don't trust me?" She checked the comm protocols first, then.

"Not my secrets to share so freely. My clients don't enjoy having their newest technology out in the open. For example, those rounds that appear to be made with Pollonium blocks are not something that would follow the Geneva Convention rules. But we will need it anyways." Hannah looked a bit worried. "That's the worst of the batch, I'm afraid. The rest are simply not past the point of development, so I would appreciate it if you would not mention certain details to your superiors until after we return, and perhaps until after the product is fully revealed."

Hannah begrudgingly understood this, he could see. So with a nod she went back to her datapad. Jack went to his Omni-tool, and did what he hadn't done since college: cram every piece of relative knowledge about a subject into his mind as fast as possible. Headache aside, he would not be the one holding up the trip. The rest of the shuttle ride was rather quiet, except for the puffing of cigarette smoke, the occasional drink of water, and the tapping sounds of information flowing. James contributed heavily to this, as he had to learn how to pilot a frigate with experimental technology. He also had to navigate all of this information in addition to his piloting, which Jack hoped would give him enough time to master all of this.

"Sir, we are on final approach to Ashland-Hislopp. They have cleared the priority landing pad for us." James' voice came over the audio.

"Thank you James. Get whatever you need and don't forget anything you care about." Jack said. Though he had to think about James for a moment. "What callsign do you go by, James, as I am sure Hansen doesn't handle very well."

"James Hansen. Callsign 'Rook'. You guessed I was in the military.?"

"No, I just don't hire pilots from anywhere else." Jack replied casually. He keyed the door to open the shuttle, and the rain and wind came flying in. Jack grimaced. This suit wasn't meant for rain. Oh well, nothing for it if he wanted to go now. Thankfully, he saw the landing pad being rushed by a number of staff. A couple of engineers, three suits and one armed guard. Two of the suits moved forward while the last remained by the door. One was Todd, his graying hair more a preference than a problem. It was just too perfectly gray tinted to be anything but his preference. The other was a no name, at least to Jack, and he was moving forward with an umbrella.

Behind him, he could see Hannah holding up a hand to the spray of water and wind. He motioned for the staff member to cover the lady with the umbrella. He did so, Hannah giving him a look as they stepped off the plane. Ego he might have, but he also had to keep Hannah in his pocket until she could understand why he was doing what he was doing. With the stunt he pulled today it would be decades before she forgot about this. Her superiors wouldn't forget at all.

He moved forward, uncaring about the water getting everywhere. "Todd!" He called. "Good to see you."

"Indeed, Jack. Your bird is as ready as I can get her, and your flight path is logged. Though I don't quite share your rush to go into unexplored space, I can understand your desire to just fly."

"Let's just say I have a place to be. Circumstances change too quickly to stick with a single plan, as you know. How is the _Talon_? Test flights within parameters?"

"She ran three flights in the last week. Only within the parameters. Though that drive core is a bit heavy, it felt like I was driving a vehicle with a slight load." Todd said with a grin, his teeth showing signs of tea stains.

"You flew her yourself?" Jack asked.

"Oh yes. Couldn't trust anyone else to do it. She is absolute rubbish in atmosphere, but once you clear the stratosphere, don't be afraid of really giving her all you got. She is a real joy to fly, though. The paint job got finished just a few hours ago, before you called. Getting that orange you wanted was rather difficult, but not impossible on short notice."

Todd walked with them inside the headquarters, out of the rain, and shook his suit out. Jack definitely owed him. Though to fund another one of these craft wouldn't be impossible, he would need some time to refund the stock he had in different hedge funds to pay for it. Most of his fluid cash would probably have to go to paying back Senator Scott. Their walk was only a few hundred feet before Todd brought them before a large blast door. By this time most of the raindrops that had gotten onto them were gone or had just been absorbed by their clothes.

"Todd, you outdo yourself. Every time." Jack complimented. Personally testing the craft, everything. "Call on me anytime. I'll do whatever it takes." Jack offered. Todd Hislopp held onto favors for years. But when he called this one in, it would be big.

"Just wait until you see her, Jack." Todd said, punching in a key code into the doors. Without any noise they slid back, revealing the hangar. "Fifty meters, Palladium plating on the airlocks and hard points, with heat resistant plating elsewhere." Behind the door was the _Talon_. Fifty meters, just as he said. More importantly, its profile was that of a bird with its wings extended, with the wing nacelles adjustable for flight control. Each was rated for any turn angle that the G-forces would allow, and had the speed to be able to outrun any of the picket forces that the Alliance had around Shanxi. Their best were in other places right now, but that might be only true for now.

He also made the craft look like a smaller _Normandy_. The _Talon_ didn't have its armor, Tantalus core, or AI, but it had one thing that made it better. It was purely civilian, so every seat had real leather, real granite counters, and looked like it belonged on the front of a magazine. The paint job was of course, his favorite. Cerberus colors. There was no negative connotations for this color combination yet, or perhaps not at all if he just changed that. Though he was rather fond of the colors.

"The Spitfire 2200's we put on there are technically the same models that the military will be buying for their new frigates, but their drive cores will be larger. So they will have a little bit more speed in the long run, but you will have more acceleration and a smaller tank." Todd said, pointing at the engines as they came up to the airlock. There was no Orange and black 'C' to greet him on the doors, but he could care less. This craft made him smile.

"Did you test their top speed?" Jack asked.

"Of course. I'm just a gentleman enough to let you figure it out yourself. She is your baby, after all. When these hit the market, I can imagine that there will be a lineup."

Jack gave him an equal grin. "I'll send you the information on our flight. We will be going through some relay travel at some point. What is the name of the engineer you sent me?"

Todd's grin slipped slightly. Perhaps he was just trying to get rid of the engineer. "Amandeep Kale. Graduated from India's top starship training facility, and was the chief engineer for the _Talon_ project. He knows your ship the best out of all of my technicians."

"How is his English?" Jack asked. Todd grimaced slightly more. That must have been it. Todd was one of those types of men that prided himself on his English.

"Tolerable. But when he gets into the jargon he just speaks too fast for anyone to understand him. Perhaps you can knock some sense into him."

Jack nodded. "Only if i need to. Hopefully this will be a short trip." He made sure to shake Todd's hand as he opened the airlock. "James, get the chair warmed up. Get Kale to spin up the drive and get us in the air." James moved past him, shaking off his awe and wonder at the craft. He would know if much more intimately before this was all over. "Allison, if you would, it is time to leave." He motioned to her. Todd probably believed that Hannah was here to be his female companionship. To be fair, Jack never lacked such. He had crafted that image for himself. It made people underestimate him, especially women. At least until they joined him later.

"Remember, Todd. Anytime." Jack said, ambling towards the airlock as he watched the engines start getting warmer. As they closed he took a deep breath of the air onboard, and looked around. There were two levels of the craft, one lower and one upper. The lower contained the engines and engineering section in the back half of the craft. The front half of the lower level was a lounge and pilot's area. Staff rooms were kept along the sides of the ship on the lower floor. The upper floor had a bar and kitchen, along with two staterooms. Just in case he wanted to take Henry with him. Or whomever may be invited. Two other smaller guestrooms existed, as well as an office space. That space was being used for the arms and armor that Todd had placed on the ship for him. Thankfully he didn't ask about that. Though he was sure it was on his mind. Jack had one bedroom reserved for himself, in the front of the ship on top of the pilot's lounge. The window was reminiscent of his view when he had Minuteman Station.

Next time he wouldn't have that. That station was a blatant waste of resources that he could have placed elsewhere. When he stepped onto the lush carpet, he breathed a sigh of relief. Next to him, Hannah grinned.

"Wow, you really are committed to this. Taking something this nice into a combat zone is just unheard of." Hannah's heels clicked as she walked around, examining the fine surfaces and took an extra long stop at the bar. Solid granite from New Zealand. It had brown speckling amongst the gray stone that just made any drink look more appetizing.

"Only the best. Though for this, the _Talon's_ speed is what we need. The comfort is simply a plus. I had this craft fully outfitted and stocked before we got here. If you have any sort of craving for a drink, feel free to find it behind the bar. The computer will grab it from the storage racks." Many of the bottles he had put in stock were placed on the wall, but he would be a fool to not use the storage space behind the wall for the rest of what he needed in stock. Henry would be able to drink through most of his liquor that was exposed over a week. "James, are we in the air?"

"Yes, sir. Did you notice?"

He hadn't. Paying attention, he could barely feel any gravity force on him. But there was a subtle pull on him that spoke of acceleration. "I can barely feel it. How fast are we going?"

"As fast as ground control will let me break atmosphere. Sir, this craft is amazing. Other than the weight in back, this feels almost like the racing circuit."

"That must have been what got you on my list of pilots. Consider this your permanent posting, James. I get the feeling that this might be better than being my chauffeur." Perhaps lacking in a few amenities and varieties of bedroom partners, but the comfort levels were the same. "As long as you perform up to speed, of course. Make for the relay at best speed. Open her up and get us underway. I'll have a list of alternate courses to take once we clear the relay sent forward to you." He checked his chronometer. He had to blink. "Also, very nice time in flight, Rook." He had still made the timetable, even after being forced on an alternate course.

"Thank you, sir." James replied.

Jack then turned to find Hannah prying a cork off of a bottle of Irish whiskey. Well, that was surprising. "I did owe you a better brand from a few hours ago."

She gave him a grin. "Consider this part of my bribe."

"So does that mean you are in?"

"Unless you do something that would convince me to shoot you before we get to Shanxi, then yes." Jack had to consider his words. He might actually commit treason if he mentioned too much. She must have found the look on his face amusing, as she slid a glass over towards the next seat on the bar. "You have good taste, Jack. I haven't seen this stuff since I left …" she trailed off, but shook her head and didn't mention anything further. He refrained from commenting.

"Cheers." He offered, ending the awkward moment. After the glasses clinked, Jack took a sip and had to grit his teeth against the burn. She picked the very hard liquor. He was used to women picking the lighter stuff. He gave it a moment to get down his throat. "You'll find that my taste is preferential in everything. You can use the bedroom on the right upstairs, and the room across from it has all of the weapons and armor that you hopefully had enough time to familiarize yourself with. We will be at Shanxi within fifteen hours. You have until then to catch up on any sleep, get the guns loaded with the correct ammunition, and have the armor ready for yourself, me, and possibly two other people to be exfiltrated." At her questioning look, he addressed her obvious concern. "We might be able to have some support on the ground. I have a few contacts on Shanxi that might be able to help."

"Who would be able to help? All of the hired muscle in the Alliance is probably on that planet." Hannah noted.

"Only the ones with loose morals and greedy pockets." Jack retorted. That _was_ what he had been trying to hire, after all. "The rest of Humanity's mercenary groups are probably still on earth in Africa or other hotspots. The headquarters that the Reds are operating out of are highly sophisticated, and require a large staff to operate. The leader of that staff and woman in charge of keeping things running is named Eva Core. She might have a few people still loyal to her."

"Can you trust her?" Hannah asked, refilling her whiskey. Jack was still nursing his. He made a mental note to see if she could out drink him later.

"I can trust that she wants her building and lifestyle back. The Reds most likely don't do any of the terraforming and construction that kept the company afloat and paid for. In fact, once all of this comes out, Terryl Construction will most likely go bankrupt. Whoever buys them out will have to be considerate of much of the Shanxi situation, or they might just pull out entirely." He paused, considering being the man to buy it out. Perhaps, but not worth the headache and effort to personally involve himself. "I can trust that Eva will want the Reds gone. So prepare two of the hardsuits for females and two for males. Eva is very short, so you might want to have that be a smaller size."

Hannah smirked. "Haven't done this since basic. You demand a lot out of your people."

"Only the best." Jack grimaced at the burn of the whiskey, deciding to finish the last of his drink and head towards the pilot's chamber. "I'll check with you in ten hours. Until then, comm me if you are having trouble." He didn't get a reply, Hannah heading for the ornamental and decorative stairs. He had modeled them after stairs he had seen in the London Opera house, spiraling monstrosities. They were not actually the marble that the stairs were, but were simply shaped like them. Though the ever present carpet was there as well. He did give Hannah a long glance as she walked away, her body profile one of slight exhaustion. She was beautiful, for certain. Whether he would actually get to see anything or enjoy anything would depend on tomorrow. Jack was patient, though. There was always another woman. _But_, he reminded himself, there was only one Shepard that was a key component in his plans.

Walking forward to the pilot's room, he had made this improved as well. There was a small kitchenette off to one side of the room, along with a small bunking chamber and bathroom. Two beds were in here, and the front part of the chamber was a wide window with all of the controls for the ship. The pilot's seat, real leather with full comfort options, had James sitting comfortably in it while drinking a bottle of water. Jack had the fridge here stocked with everything that a pilot could want, as well as alcohol. James could drink that if he felt comfortable enough, but he went with water.

"Not finding a drink you like, Rook?" Jack asked, making him jump as he came closer. The doors were silent in the ship, after all.

"Ah, no, I just prefer water, sir." James offered, watching as Jack came forward and sat in the other hot seat. Jack called up the navigation information, finding it a bit more intuitive than the program that he had to learn from on his Omni-tool. Considering the tool, he synced it up with the security systems onboard, and saw that Hannah hadn't tried to check up with her superiors.

"Fair enough. But if you have any preference, I can have it shipped here and supplied for you." Jack offered. He queued up the pathways for the ship to be able to travel once they hit the other side of the Arcturus Relay. He received a warning, since the pathways hadn't been mapped exactly, so he had to override them. That took a while. "Any food allergies or preferences, James?" Jack asked, while waiting for the program to compile all of the data he had just entered.

"Some, but easily avoided. I am not a very nice drunk, nor does it take much to get me there, or so I have been told." He said.

"Don't remember?"

"Happened once, and I had already been skipping sleep for days on end. Woke up later with a black eye and a couple regrets. But, if you are offering, sir." He considered his words. "Ginger beer is never in stock anywhere I go. That would be my only request. Other than that I am rather ambivalent about food." James offered, glancing at the navigation program. The speed that he had gotten the _Talon_ up to was excellent. It was getting attention, but that was unavoidable. Thankfully none of the Alliance patrol craft were calling to investigate. There weren't rules on how fast you could travel in the Sol system yet. Though with this performance that might come sooner than expected. Jack didn't remember all of the details on that. His memories didn't focus on that.

"Ginger beer it is. This program should take a bit to compile, but once it finishes let me know. I am going to speak to Kale." Jack said, getting up and brushing off his suit. James gave him a nod. Once the door opened Jack made sure to add ginger beer to his shopping list. He also noticed a message from Hannah.

_Jack,_

_ Did you buy clothes for me? This is all rather too unbelievable to be just coincidence._

Jack laughed a little bit. Stocking the ship with everything meant that he had _everything_ prepared. He had one of the state rooms prepared with enough clothing to destroy a year's salary of a New York CEO. Not hard, especially when he had the best tastes being fulfilled. Hannah might find this either offensive or a compliment.

_Allison_

_ I told you my ship was stocked. Take anything you need, I can always have it replaced. Consider it part of the amenities I offer. I apologise if anything is not to your tastes, that room is normally reserved for guests of a different nature._

Jack grinned. Hannah might actually be offended at some of the items in that closet, but he didn't care. It wasn't her ship. He didn't get a reply immediately, so he figured that she had moved on or decided it wasn't worth replying to. Jack walked behind the stairs, pulling on one of the lamps that had been built into the wall. There were four lamps along the back wall, and each opened up a door. Two lead to the engineering space. As soon as the door opened, he could hear a barrage of music coming from the area.

Urdu spoken music. He had found Kale. Coming around the bend, he could see the six foot long drive core that powered the _Talon_ was spinning nicely, gearing up for the mass relay jump. Despite the music, the engineering chamber was not cluttered with tools as he thought it would be. Everything was in perfect order, which was rare in an environment like this one. There were two display consoles, and a short Indian gentleman was busy working at one of them. The music was loud, but not overbearing. Amandeep was a brown that his race was known for. He was bald, and wore a rather clean set of clothes. A few spots of oil were on a rag that was hanging from a rack near one of the display consoles. Jack couldn't find any other signs of dirt of oil here.

"Pilut Ruk, deh kor is spinning and ready. She is within acceptable limits." The accent was thick. But his fingers flew across the display with practice.

"Copy." James' voice replied. "Attention all aboard, we are making for the relay and will jump in five minutes, barring any attempt to stop us." James laughed at his own joke, though Amandeep also gave a chuckle. Jack let himself smile a bit. "Please prepare yourselves and brace yourself in the nearest seat. This will be the first time that the _Talon_ will hit a Mass Relay, so I don't know how badly she will shake." Jack knew that he had designed the craft to glide through everything. It shouldn't have too much trouble with the mass relay transition, but that wasn't a guarantee.

Jack decided that it might be better to to not risk anything. Amandeep looked very professional and in charge of himself. He slipped back the way he came, the door sliding closed silently. He walked back to the bar, and set the bottle of whiskey back in its slot. The two cups he slid into their own slots, which made a satisfying click as they slid into place. He could see nothing else that was loose, and so decided to get comfortable. The couch seemed like a perfect place for this.

Not a minute after he got settled, the _Talon_ gave a tiny jolt of movement, and he was shifted slightly on his seat. "Rook? Was that the transition?" Jack asked.

"Yes. Uh, Sir. This was hardly any trouble. She didn't even rattle anything."

"How much did she drift?" Jack asked.

"Over sixty thousand kilometers. I would say pretty good. Can't do much better even with military vessels." At least for now. Later on the technology would be improved enough to be much more accurate. But for now, that was exceptional.

"Very good Rook. Based on where the Alliance patrols are, you have your directions. I would prefer if you could just go to full burn and get us to the next relay as soon as possible."

"Mr. Harper, the next relay is seven hours out. I'll let you know when we hit it."

"Thank you, James. If you can, take a break when you can."

Jack went back to the bar and set the cups that had been used into the cleaning system. The bottle was safely sealed again, and hadn't been disturbed by the relay transition. With a nod to his good decisions, he made his way upstairs. HIs bedroom was prepared as he had wanted it to be. Simple, yet elegant. Black sheets. Cupboards and closet hidden inside a wall, and a bathroom worthy of any penthouse. Jack just grinned and set his alarm for six hours. A few hours of sleep now was going to be important.

Closing his eyes, he slept. But for some reason, he didn't find himself feeling anxious. That usually had him staying up late trying to plan around contingencies. This time, there was no further planning. There was one shot at this. Greg Smith was either on Shanxi or dead. No matter what, Jack was going to find him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Shanxi was a distance from the nearest connecting relay. That meant that the FTL drive was put into use. It was the only thing that caused any sort of disturbance in the ship's movement. Accelerating to FTL had caused Jack to wake up from his nap, for a moment. He woke up a lot more when they came out of FTL, when the ship shook as it decelerated. Jack was dressed and ready within a couple of minutes. This time he skipped the suit jacket. He didn't need the technological advantages that were built into the inner jacket.

The stairs he took two at a time, and the rug gave him plenty of traction. He walked quickly, but not with any level of anxiety, his beating heart telling him otherwise. Hannah was still upstairs, most likely preparing the armor. He had forwarded his sizes to her for the hardsuit. It took hours to properly get them sized to each person, with Humanity's current level of technology. Hannah was probably going to be busy with that until they got closer.

Stepping past the bar, he could see that the bottle of whiskey had been turned. Hannah must have come and gotten another glass at some point. She had put everything back, at least. The pilot's lounge had barely any change, other than one of the beds being slightly shifted. James had hopefully gotten some rest. Jack came over the navigation console.

"How is the system looking, James?" He asked.

James must have heard him come in. "Very active. We have ten Alliance craft and a dozen or more civilian craft around." He motioned to the displays. "Most of them are around Shanxi but there is a lot of things I can't see. The sun is giving off a lot of flares, but according to the files that is normal. It means I can't see much on the far side of the system. Shanxi I don't have clear readings of, but I can see a lot of activity."

There were a lot of ship signatures that hadn't been seen on the first look. It looked like there were medical vessels, trade ships, and the ever present military vessels all over the system. More importantly he saw the thing he was looking for. There was a meteor shower heading inwards to the inner ring of planets. Jack grinned. Solar flares were common from Shanxi's sun. The meteor showers were also something he could take advantage of.

"Take us towards this heading. Try to save our kinetic barriers for later. It will get a little hot moving past the sun at this vector, but I want us to be outside their sensor range."

"That heading leads us towards the gas giant on the other side of the system. Are we going to discharge our drive core there?" James asked.

"No. I want that heading to be where they think we are going. The Helium refineries in system will be a fine excuse for a civilian craft to go towards it. In reality, I want you to break off here," He motioned using the navigation console, "and take us into that batch of meteorites. Just skirting the edge, mind you. We will get torn apart if we come too close. From inside those, we will have some sensor cover to make it to the far side of Shanxi."

James nodded, and started towards that heading. As they got closer to Shanxi's star, their sensors could no longer see Shanxi or that side of the system. James was keeping to his heading, and Amandeep reported that the drive core was experiencing no trouble. He had a few flaws in their fuel usage. Apparently the engine was not as efficient as advertised to him by Todd. But, for the speed and acceleration it gave, it was alright.

James frowned as they cleared the sun and had a view of the meteorites. He then broke off from the planned heading and started moving towards the gas giant again. Jack gave him a glance.

"We aren't the only people on that heading." He said, eyes glued to his console. "I'm seeing a few possible signatures that are near the meteorites that would be exactly where you would want us to be. Did you invite anyone else?"

Jack narrowed his eyebrows. "No." There were only a few possibilities if someone was already there. He didn't like any of them. This entire situation was not something he could just go into his past memories and test against them. He had engineered this little rebellion, and nothing in his past would help. "James, I need to know if there are ships in there. Do a flyby."

"They'll know we are there, though."

"Right now, stealth was our best bet. If someone is already in my flight path, then we have to reconsider our plans. We are on too tight of a timetable to avoid any heading that takes us away from Shanxi." He glanced at the local timer. It was just past three in the morning on Shanxi. Greg did not have much time before he was going to be killed, if what his contacts had mentioned was spot on. He didn't trust them as much as he wished he could, since most of his more loyal minions had been nuked with Zaeed. "Take us right past them. See if you can run some ID numbers. Make, model, whatever. We don't have time to go to the gas giant and come around without arousing suspicion."

"What should I do if they fire on us, then?" James asked carefully.

"Use it to our advantage. Complain, be loud about it. Raise some sort of alarm and I'll find a reason for us to get on the ground. If they don't, make for this location here." He made a point on the map of Shanxi.

James looked more worried about that. "They are going to be able to see us if we land right there."

"If I didn't have meteorites to hide behind, then I wouldn't have that problem. Thankfully I know that they don't have patrols on that side of the mountains. But there are tunnels that connect that area to the main colony." Jack told him. He couldn't appear uncertain in front of his pilot. Thankfully he had the practice of schooling his features. "We will have enough time to land and hopefully get out of there before they can get around to us. Perhaps some Alliance air support if we can act suspiciously enough."

"I hope that they don't have guns, then. Sir." He added at the last, reminding himself. James started taking them in, their course heading straight towards Shanxi, right past the meteorite group. Their yacht was able to get up to a much more impressive speed than the meteorites, and they could both distinguish separate objects among the group that were too rectangular to be space rock.

"Take us in closer. Those rocks are throwing off the gear." Civilian level technology. Not acceptable.

"Those look like those new Kowloon freighters. Could have anything on them." James muttered. The objects were quite square and rectangular, and the vessels were all painted black to mix in with the surrounding space. They also didn't have their running lights on.

"That means they are capable of landing anywhere. Kowloon frigates have a modular airlock, which allows them to dock in locations that aren't usually meant for spacecraft." Jack said. That was the one reason Cerberus had used them, back in the day. "Those ships won't need to land at the spaceport."

"Any bets on where they are heading?" James asked, looking like he was trying to guess. Jack didn't have to.

"Unmarked modular freighters travelling in a sensor shadow that we ourselves would have picked. Three, possibly another hidden past them on the other side of the meteor. No attempts to hail or contact anyone from our approach. There is no question as to their intention. As they are obviously illegal in their intentions, they must be associated with the Reds. So, by association, they are headed to the same party that we are."

James took a moment to consider that. "How fast do I need to go?"

Jack gave him a look. "Punch it. If the Alliance sends ships to check us out, that may throw off their plans. I do not want the Reds getting any more support if I can afford it." Indeed. He couldn't.

"Then should we send a hail to the one Alliance cruiser that might be able to make our heading?"

"No. That would be inviting trouble." Jack said. He watched as the ships stayed in the meteorite cloud and didn't even try to break away or address the _Talon_. They accelerated, moving towards Shanxi with all haste. It was almost an hour away. "James, I am going to go get my armor on. I trust that you'll ignore any hails."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"It will create a reaction from the Alliance. Where one ship ignores a hail, it creates a dangerous sequence of events. More reasons for them to interrupt those freighters." James only nodded at this.

"I guess I should turn off our IDs, then, sir. It would only make us more suspicious." James snarked. Jack gave him a small smirk in response.

"Initiative is usually considered a marketable quality. Don't let it become something more dangerous." Jack reminded. James nodded, humbled a bit but still feeling rather good about himself. Jack's feet took him up the stairs and into the bedroom. From here he retrieved his Omni-tool and his pistol. Once he had these, he carried them over to the office. He found his hardsuit laid out along the table, and the display that was supposed to be on the table had been dropped in the far corner of the room.

Hannah was fully suited in armor, and had a satchel in one hand and most of the points on her armor were filled with weapons. There were two of each weapon hanging from her armor, and a few more were laid out under the table, where he could see the armor he was to wear also placed.

In this life he hadn't become a mercenary, hadn't gone through military training. But the old memories contained all that he needed. The hardsuit came on easily, and was well fitted. Everything was. The armor he had delivered was of the medium variety, compared to what his memories told him. It was the best Humanity had at the time, though. Hannah's armor and his were nearly formless. The archaic variety of armor was not following the contours of their bodies like the future versions would.

Still, Hannah made it look decent. He supposed that he did a rather dapper job of filling out his own armor. He had an exercise regimen. It kept his figure in top shape. Looking down at the armor, he had to make sure to act suitably unfamiliar with it all. He took extra special care to drop the shotgun he had picked. Predictably, Hannah reacted. She snorted at this.

"You sure that you should be carrying any of that?" She mocked. "Or have you ever shot a gun before?"

Jack snapped his wrist, causing the hold-out pistol to snap into his hand. "Only when necessary. Even then only when threatened." He returned the pistol to its position on the inside of his elbow. Her eyes were ready for it, but still showed some intrigue. "Pistols are where I am best, but I believe it is said that anyone can use a shotgun. Not to mention my pistol is meant more for the targets that aren't aware of your presence. This pistol happens to make very little noise when shot. So it has its uses."

"Fair enough." She said, holstering her own shotgun and rifle. "You will carry the extra gear then, since I will be on point. I don't trust your ability to be quiet yet. But I did add something to help with that."

Jack shrugged. As long as she was serious about helping him, that was fine. "We should head downstairs. We might be flagged as dangerous by an Alliance Cruiser in the next couple of minutes." That got her moving, and they got down into the cockpit just in time to see the planet of Shanxi starting to fill the view. It was a bit intimidating, to be honest with himself. But Hannah had her mouth open too, so it must have been nice to see. He took the time to enjoy that view as they got closer, and didn't disrupt James.

The Talon came within the outer edges of the stratosphere of Shanxi without raising much alarm from the Alliance cruiser in orbit above its North Pole. They were not making much noise on communications or from their movements, but as soon as they hit the atmosphere they would make a lot more ruckus. When a ship entered atmosphere it wasn't in a very clean way. A lot of heat got to the craft, and it would light up on any thermal detectors hidden across the hemisphere. Jack had strapped himself in, and looked over at James.

"Take us in and take an oblong heading until our heat dissipates. Then change course for Tyrrel Headquarters." Jack had a number of things to so once they got there.

James nodded, taking the Talon directly into the atmosphere. The cruiser saw this soon enough, and started coming about towards them. "It'll be too late when they get here. We have some of the best thermal exhaust that exists. Shanxi is cold enough in the upper atmosphere that I can get rid of all of the heat long before they can get any satellites in the area."

Jack nodded. "We are almost there. The barriers are keeping out the worst of it." They had better. Jack paid good money for them to be able to do that much. Could they take a shot from that cruiser? Not a chance in hell.

James started leveling them out around the level of Shanxi's cloud layer. "I've got cloud cover. If you think I can get away with it, I can change heading now."

Jack considered this for only a moment. The cruiser was still coming around, but hadn't deployed any fighters or taken much of any offensive actions. Hopefully that meant they would be in position to deny those freighters entrance to the atmosphere.

"Do it. The cruiser hasn't sent fighters after us yet."

"Maybe they can't afford to pay their pilots?"

"The rebels didn't bring enough fighters down to scare them enough nor did the Alliance cut any funding to their hotshot pilot program." Jack gave James a look. "How was it that you lost your position in the Alliance, as I know that their pilots get at least a steady pension?"

James grimaced. "My parents did me right in how they raised me, but I never did like staying completely within the rules. So the racing circuit sort of appealed to me. The Alliance doesn't have enough ships for all of the pilots to serve at the same time, so we are serving in six month stints. Some of us decided to race during the off season, as we called it."

"What was it that brought you into it?"

"The adrenaline. That, along with some decent cash prizes for the winners, made it worth it. We had enough money to live through the off season, so most of us did it for the sport. Others did it to live better. But eventually it all came crashing down. We all lost our commissions, had to straighten up our lives." James had very little emotion in his voice as he said this. He probably resolved all this long ago, but it was good to know about these sort of things. In his past life Jack would have micromanaged his labor force to a degree that he would have known all this already, but this time around he gave the recruiters a mediocum of trust.

"So there went your pension. I assume you ended up here, or did you have some other insufferable trait I should know about?"

"I don't love spicy food and shouldn't fly if I haven't slept in four days." James said, their path through the clouds turning around towards the colony. "Looks like we are on our new heading now sir. Thermal venting complete. Alliance air patrols are out, but shouldn't take great interest in us. They seem to have found the freighters."

Jack smirked. That was excellent news. "There are some pipes that lead from a reservoir into the back of the base. I want you to balance the Talon on the two of them. I and Hannah will approach the base from there."

"How much of a gap is there between the pipes? Surface area?"

Jack grimaced. "The pipes are six feet apart and ten wide. They won't hold your weight, but the field above should be clear enough to set down."

"That's miles from any location I can pick you up at." James muttered, looking at the location Jack had selected with the console. "That's barely eighty meters of clear ground."

"No one else would use it. Try not to scratch the paint."

"Where do I pick you up then?"

"If things go according to plan then you will pick us up back on the pipes. If things go sour, we may as well try the roof."

"That sounds suicidal. We will be in the open, and the sun will be up." James said, bringing the craft towards the mountain range.

"Be that as it may, we would be out of options by that point. You'll be flying near the northwest anti air tower, so if they get that online you should hide behind the headquarters. There is a terrace that juts out there, but is a much harder location. The winds will be pushing you into the building, and the ship is not exactly built for stealth."

James didn't like those options, but relayed the coordinates anyway. "Ten minutes from the pipes. You best be ready to jump."

"Are we jumping from the main airlock?" Hannah's voice came from behind them. Jack snapped his head up, noticing her with all oh her weapons. She had a grin on her face as she caught him by surprise."Don't we have an engineering entrance?"

"It isn't meant for armored figures. Amandeep has to bend over to walk through it. We can't jump from there. There isn't enough surface area." Jack replied, seemingly unfazed by her presence when in reality he had been caught completely unprepared. Hannah was not someone he had been adequately prepared for, in every occasion. "This isn't a military craft. But you know that. Have you been standing there long enough to hear our discussion?"

She shook her head. "I came in when you mentioned the roof. Sounds like you are engaging in your usual impulsive planning." Hannah was still smirking as she said this. Probably some jape at her method of recruitment.

"In your expert opinion, then, what would you recommend?" Jack derided her attempts to make him uncomfortable.

"That you tell us the real reason you have come to Shanxi." She said. "A single genetic implant can be collected from a corpse easily enough. A man of your wealth never risks himself unless there is something threatening him directly." She didn't even have her hand near her weapon. But the threat was an open one.

"You are aware of the newest wave of budget cuts affecting the military?" He knew she was, but had to remind her of the topic to get her opinion pointed in the right direction. "These cuts will remove our ability to deploy those kilometer long dreadnaughts we have been developing for years. Billions of credits are riding on the contracts involved. Ashland-Hislopp has been making a shipyard for them, and if those contracts fall through they lose their billion credit investments."

"Your Talon was made by Hislopp. Is this another favor?" Hannah noted.

"If only. I own as much of that company as Todd allows me to. Nearly thirty percent. Any company associated with the military has my investments in it. Before you ask, that's not a collective fund. My own personal wealth has been invested into the future of Humanity, and others like me do the same. These budget cuts remove our ability to defend ourselves. More importantly, there is a small collective of individuals that feel that Humanity should not be threatened like this." Jack very much wanted a cigarette right now. "These individuals have decided to fund a small group of mercenary freedom fighters. You know them as the Reds."

"Why would anyone fund them?" Hannah said. "Total madness."

"To watch their much vaunted Alliance Military crush them in a narrow victory. To prove the worth of their armor and weapons developed for the Alliance. The close win would prove to the Senate that the Alliance Navy needs an overhaul. One such man is Germaine Bissel, of Bissel Airspace. But the flaw in the armor lost him his fortunes and his life. He committed suicide not long after, I am sure. But he funded the Reds with the intent of marketing his armors over his competitors. He wasn't the only contributor, and many were anonymous. I wasn't."

Hannah was waiting for enough information to arrest him. He wasn't planning on giving it to her. James was the one to speak up, though.

"We here to fix up the mess, then?"

"I would need mercenaries loyal to me. All of those that existed were blown up by their fellows. The only ones with respect and sense were in my pocket, and for that twenty million credits of eezo was detonated on top of them. The plan was to surrender after the scum had been broken through and crushed at the space port. My men died in the hours before the attack. The survivors would have been exposed to enough eezo to give them tumors and days to live. We are not here to fix up anything, unless the opportunity presents itself."

"So what are you here for if not to fix your mess?" James asked. "Sir," he added, a bit late.

"I need to do a little digging and retrieve a certain marine. I wasn't lying about the genetic implant. The servers should still accept my authorization, and I can find what we need. Evidence for Hannah to charge Bissel with the attack, as well as vindicate them for the sabotaged armor. Either way it quiets down the populace and the situation. You get your villain, I get my peaceful colony and contracts back, and the Reds die or disappear within the month without resupply. Either way, any of my own intentions in this have been removed."

Hannah had folded her arms. "Exactly what were those intentions?"

"Something the Alliance could break their teeth on. Give them a fight without a war. Something that could be the first in a string of strategic actions that would overturn the legislation and create a strong trust in the Navy. My fellows, anonymous or not, must have had a different opinion. I hope to find out their intention or identity and offer the Alliance some sort of target for all of this, or else some innocents out there will pay for it."

Hannah scoffed. Jack ignored this and continued. "You'll find that many of the Admirals would have supported the original plan. We even had their approval for some things. You should at least be thankful. After today you might as well be able to demand a promotion."

"I get the feeling that my superiors might gain a greater understanding if you were brought in for questioning. You seem to have all of the answers." He couldn't do that. He couldn't stop the Reapers if he was rotting in some jail. He shook his head.

"I can do more for Humanity from my office then from a cell. Even if I have answers right now," She could only wish that she had his perspective on things, "I only got them from searching and digging through reports. I won't be able to supply you with answers in the future if you lock me up."

"That's only if you choose to supply me or anyone else with answers. Perhaps I only want names." Hannah declared. She must not like him yet. To be fair, Jack wasn't the most welcoming man in the world, unless libido was involved.

"You can have them. Though your superiors won't let you arrest anyone without proof. Proof you are going to help me get right now." The console showed them nearing the lake that fed the headquarters. Jack stood up, holding a sack with weapons and the spare armors. Hannah had given him the honor of carrying the extra gear, if she were going to be in charge of shooting. He walked to the airlock, Hannah close behind. She wasn't using a helmet, and her red hair was tied up behind her head. Jack had one, but that was more for the interface. Helmets muffled noise and made it hard to hear things. Like people walking or loading their gun with phasic rounds.

The pipes emerged from the lake, yellow colored and half buried by dirt. The Talon slowed and finally stopped over the pipes most exposed point, the airlock nearly fifteen feet from the ground. He couldn't land any closer, otherwise the vents would suck up grass and dirt, and the wings would clip the trees. There was a rope just for this, though. Hannah slid down first, and hit the ground without much trouble. Jack dropped the bag down the rope to her, then slid down himself. He did not feign anything this time, and landed as lightly as she had. They were both right next to the pipes, and the large yellow things provided cover and support. Their armor was heavy, and sank through the loose dirt on the hill. All of this was a landslide potential area, which made the pipes a vital walkway.

He moved down the pipes first. James had taken the Talon away from them and over by the meadow he would hide the Talon at. It barely fit, and Jack was already imagining long black scratch marks all over the white and orange highlights. Ignoring that, he could see the end of the pipeline, entering into the mountainside and mounting into a wide metal wall housing, complete with door and terminal. Hannah and Jack found no one waiting for them, and the terminal was deactivated.

That wasn't hard to fix. Once on, it requested a username and pass code. He started entering the code belonging to his colleague at Tyrrel, Dr. Eva Core. She was a short woman of French descent that had a brilliant mind for designing colonial infrastructure. As he typed in the username Hannah laughed. "You don't look like a woman. How did you steal this code?"

"I traded the obvious for it. She shared it with me in exchange for my secrets."

"What secret held that kind of value, pray tell?"

"The kind you would have to sleep with me for, as she did."

Hannah must have been giving him a look. She didn't reply for a moment. "Sounds expensive. Did she get her money's worth?"

Jack couldn't be too flirtatious with her. But he also couldn't help himself. "Three times. You could claim she didn't get her money's worth, but today we are going to rescue her for certain. So I would say that her investment" Hannah let out a small scoff at his wording, "is being returned in full." With this kind of reaction it was unlikely that Hannah would sleep with him. He would have to avoid mentioning this to Henry.

The console let out a chirp to let him know that the login was complete. He brought up the functions of the console, limited to the water control valve and the doors, as well as basic access to to the systems. His Omni-tool wasn't powerful enough to override the interface, so he had to type out his commands on its more primitive interface. First things first, he wrote a small note in the administrator message system. He timed it for five minutes from then, and then added a subroutine to have the door open as part of the sent message.

_Administrator required. Systems failure at junction 149-B. Water monitoring server down._

That would get Eva's attention. She was not someone you would kill during an occupation. She was critical to the future of the colony, and nobody wanted the colony completely destroyed. At least nobody that Jack was aware of. If someone had that in mind hopefully they left something behind for him to find.

"In five minutes that door will open as part of a subroutine that will get Eva's attention. If she comes to fix it immediately then we will have to deal with her escort, if she has one. If she doesn't i will be able to tell where she is based on where the message is sent to display."

"So we are going to trigger an alarm to begin with? Won't they notice someone missing?"

"Communications this far out are a bit garbled. Especially when the helmet reports a failure. They won't check until the next shift change, which gives us two hours at the most."

Hannah nodded, and settled at one end of the platform with her rifle lowered. Jack acted like the civilian he was supposed to be. He lounged by the door and wished he could take out a cigarette. This late in the game his nerves were not so friendly to him. When five minutes had passed, he jerked towards the door. It made some racket as it skidded open, the sub standard door banging open. The hallway was empty, though. Only a bag of old tools remained to mark the presence of humanity here. A good sign, thankfully. Some dust was left over from the concrete and ferrocrete walling.

Jack lead the way to the server room, the exterior door shutting behind them. He didn't say anything, just following the map he had on his Omni-tool. Hannah was right behind him, her steps muffled. Looking back, he could see bits of his rug on the soles of the boots she had. His own steps were muffled as well. Hopefully that carpet section wasn't too difficult to replace. He wasn't going to tell her not to innovate, as that was something to be rewarded. When they got to the server room, they started having trouble. The server there had been completely removed. Someone had changed the layout of the server network. The physical hardware wasn't in the room, but the shape of it in the dust of the floor was obvious. A console had been ripped out too.

"This isn't good." Jack told Hannah, who appeared oblivious. "I can't do anything from here. They pulled out everything."

Hannah grinned. "Not quite. Consoles have built in cables to connect them to the rest of the system. Let's try hooking your armor into that." A decent idea, but Jack would need to create a few interfaces for direct system control that wouldn't show his identity and location to the rest of the users. Before that could happen, though, Hannah tapped his shoulder.

He looked up, and could faintly hear tapping that corresponded with footsteps. He pulled out his pistol, while Hannah hefted the shotgun of hers. The footsteps came closer, and Jack couldn't tell how many there were. He motioned to Hannah to step into a closet space off to one side. He slipped into another such space that normally held servers. They didn't have to wait long.

Walking into the room wearing her usual high heels and business attire was Eva. She hadn't slept in a good while and her clothes showed signs of dirt and grit. Walking behind her were two brutes. One carried a decent weapon and the other carried a large crate. It looked like a mobile server. Neither of the henchmen were wearing helmets. Jack motioned to the one holding the box. Hannah could take him down. He would handle the armed one. Raising his pistol, he let off two shots in quick succession. The man dropped with holes in his forehead and cheek. His partner dropped the server, and rushed to get his rifle up. His barriers activated, too.

Hannah rolled forward, her knife plunging into the unprotected flesh of the mans neck. Barrier or not, that was going through. Her hands slammed his wrist, forcing his gun to fire into one of the other alcoves. One benefit of mass effect technology was that you rarely missed. You also hit so hard that you never could ricochet your shots like with the old ammunition. The last henchmen died as Hannah took his feet out from under him and kicked his gun away. He gurgled and went quiet soon after. Jack's hit had long since stopped moving.

Eva, on her part, hadn't screamed or freaked out, she had just run for cover in an alcove. When the shooting stopped, she carefully dipped her head out.

"Are you guys trying to blow up the base too?"

"Absolutely not, Eva. You gave me those passwords a while back. Consider this my thanks." Jack said, taking off his helmet. He gave her a winning smile as he did so, his hair in complete disarray from the helmet. She gave a massive sigh of relief once she saw his face.

"Jack!" She yelled, grabbing onto him. "You've got to get me out of here! They have all of us as hostages, just like the rest of the colony."

He grinned and pulled the sack of weapons over. "I've got an armor here with your name on it if you help us find out who is responsible for all this. Then we can get out of here." Jack offered, pulled out the armor. Eva gave the armor a long look.

"Jack, it's been a very long time since I've worn such. But why do you have this armor? It is the same as their commander's armor."

Jack narrowed his eyes. Was Todd involved? He wasn't the only one with access to the new armor system, for certain. "How long has he had it? It was only released from development two weeks ago."

"Since he arrived, right before they sealed off the spaceport. Six days ago. They shot the rest of the command staff, and blew up the communications tower." Eva had kicked off her shoes, and Jack looked at Hannah and motioned towards the door. She went, but had a smirk on her face as she looked at Eva. Hopefully nothing damaging in her line of thinking, but Jack could guess. Women compared themselves to each other as a form of social hierarchy. Though with Hannah it could easily be some intention to question her for information later, even though she was easily more beautiful than Eva. As proven when Eva took off mostly everything else to get into her hard suit. Jack didn't often deviate from his usual model bedmate, but for Eva it had been for a good reason. She offered her secrets, and in return he gave the police enough dirt on her boss to get him fired and her promoted. The man in question had since been arrested multiple times for sexual harassment and inappropriate behavior.

Eva had slid the hard suit over herself with a little trouble. Her size had changed slightly with the rough treatment at the hands of the Reds, but not enough to make things impossible. In his last life, before being sent to this Reaper memoryscape, he and Eva had both been mercenaries for hire when Shanxi had been invaded. This time around Eva had been the mercenary, and Jack, knowing the possibilities of the future, had gone into investment capital firms instead.

"Looks like what I remember about you still holds true." He remarked, once she had the armor pieces on. Eva moved quickly, and was faster than Jack at getting everything in place. She had a lot less distance to reach, to be fair, and had help. Though he would not have been adverse to Hannah helping him, she was still being a prickly pear of a personality. "How are they still getting messages out if they blew up the tower?"

Eva pointed at the missing server. "They built a new one out of hardware from all over the base. They turned the top floor of the headquarters into a communications center with servers connected to the rest of the colony's sensors and defenses. They even removed the gear left over at the spaceport for fixing the tower there."

"Is it reinforced?" Jack asked.

"They put some private security system on it that I haven't been able to touch yet. It handles all of the comm traffic but you need to be at a physical port to access it. They have four men at the door."

"Are they keeping you and the other hostages together?"

"A few of us. I know there are a lot more that are being kept in the store rooms in the lower levels. Those of us with jobs to continue doing are kept on the main floor."

"I have someone that needs to be rescued from the lower levels. Perhaps more than one person, if we can get away with it."

"We won't have much time yet, they will notice when they don't report in."

Jack nodded. "The only way we can get away with all of this is from the communications room. It's in the highest office, or is it in the penthouse?"

"Highest office. The penthouse is being used by that bastard Santiago." Jack stiffened. Vido Santiago was here. Jack would love to remove that bastards head. He had caused him enough grief.

"Let's take the private elevator up to the penthouse. Mr. Stone had it installed on the original blueprints and connected it to the vehicle hangar. They aren't using that, are they?"

"They locked it up. The vehicles are mostly just transportation and heavy lifters. Any of the all terrain vehicles are being used by them. We can get there through the back tunnels easily enough. There is one that directly connects to the hangar." Eva pointed out, doing a check qui on her weapons. She was rusty at it, he could tell. She hefted the rifle with purpose though. He could count on her, though. She was the designated marksmen in their squad.

Jack stepped outside, finding Hannah in the hallway putting her knife back into her wrist sheathe. It no longer had any blood on it, so she must have cleaned it off. She gave him a neutral look, but didn't say anything. She could hear everything they said, and needed no urging or explanation.

"Eva, this is Allison, one of my dear friends in the Alliance. Allison, Dr. Eva Core." Their introductions to each other were clipped, respectful but not showing any thanks for the rescue or otherwise. Eva must think that Hannah was his current bedmate. Hannah knew enough about Eva to suggest a colored opinion. He wasn't going to correct either one, as he might take a romantic tumble before this trip was over.

The bag of weapons was much more manageable. With more than a third of the weight on Eva, he could move a bit faster. Not to mention he didn't look like a cheap laborer sweating for his hourly credits. Always a plus.

Jack found the hangar empty and dark, the vehicles scattered from where panicking workers had abandoned them. Piles of dead or destroyed equipment littered the area near the doors, thrown in the empty and large hangar. Some of these were from the removed hardware he had witnessed earlier. Others had come from the outside, and had marks from weapons fire. Not everything had been taken over without resistance. Jack moved past it, his Omni-tool glowing. The blueprint that he had acquired from his seemingly dubious sources directed him to one of the offices. It was along the back wall, and the door needed a bit of cajoling to open. The butt of his pistol was quite convincing in its argument.

The office was dusty, and there was no console or any decoration on the desk. There had been at one time, but was long gone. Jack moved past the desk, looking around the back wall. "The elevator is hidden here on this wall, but I have no information as to how to access it."

Two extra pairs of eyes found something quickly. A small code pad was underneath the desk's leg. Hannah found it, and just had a giant smirk on her face as she overturned the desk and presented it to Jack. "Got a code?"

Jack's turn to grin. "Don't need one. This system was cheaply installed, and more trouble went to hiding the system. A short-circuit of the system will reset it, giving us access. Jack easily went through the cheap security measures and reset the pass code. "5555." He said. "Just in case this goes sour."

After entering the code and closing the office door, the back wall opened from both sides to reveal the elevator. It was in good repair, but hadn't seen any use for a while. Possibly since it was installed. It only had one button. Jack pulled out his rifle, but had his pistol in hand as well. Hannah had her shotgun, while Eva knelt with a rifle.

"Where does this open to?" Hannah asked.

"The penthouse closet. Which is on the same filtration system as the new communications chamber. Allison, if you could clear the bedroom, I will cover the door."

"Can I trust you to do that?" She quipped, taking her knife out.

"You would be more dependable to not shoot a hostage in the bedroom. I would like the door, which offers less chance to commit random murders." He said, pressing the button for the elevator. "I don't have clearance to kill anyone."

"You have the mindset to, though. I'll take the bedroom but try not to do anything else too inept." She replied, rather suspicious of where all of his hidden skills were coming from. He could tell that it bothered her on some level.

Jack watched the elevator open to the inside of a well stocked closet, with decent suits and a few robes and designer shirts out in the open. Hannah moved through all of this, her feet moving silently towards the bedroom. Jack had to ignore a nice Italian sweater he might have been interested in to cover the door, while Eva had his back. Hannah was standing in the middle of a pile of rubbish by the time he had shifted his vision, her hands digging through the remains of the bed. A body was still in it, the suit and tie burned up with the bed. She moved past it, coming to a pile of blankets by the window. Cleaning solution and a spare ammo block, this one made from some depleted radioactive element, sat ready for use. They had found the bed where presumably Vido was sleeping, but he wasn't here. He should have been. Hannah was holding up one of the blankets to her face, feeling it. She shook her head, which Jack took to meaning that he hadn't been here tonight. There was only another hour until dawn, though.

He wasn't going to get to kill Vido tonight then. The hallway was clear, but they all checked the rest of the penthouse to be sure. No other signs of use were there. Hannah made sure the door was sealed, and came back over to them. "Blankets are cold. He hasn't been here."

Eva had found a working terminal with root access in the penthouse. She was typing away at it, and her interface was glowing with data.

Jack toed the blankets and grabbed the ammo block. "I'm guessing this is expensive. Too bad we can't return his hospitality. Eva, what are we looking at?"

She didn't take her eyes off the screen. "The comm channels are all talking about some cruiser that got destroyed. Though I finally have access to the entire system again, they have taken it apart so weirdly. Lots of pieces and functionality are missing."

"Cruiser? Where?" Jack asked. That didn't bode well for anybody.

"Some ships are inbound, Jack. You'll be able to see them in the courtyard in a couple minutes. Someone in the comm center is trying to turn on the colonial defenses!"

Eva brought up an image of the next room over. It had eight men in it, all at different workstations. What really worried Jack was a small pedestal off to one side, which contained a small prothean looking sculpture. He knew its real nature, that of a device meant to solely poison the mind of those nearby. Indoctrination, Reaper technology. He had seen this in his past experiences, responsible for the undermining of an entire mining operation, convincing them that the artifacts their surveys had detected were worth far more than the mineral deposit they had been sent for. Thirty six husks later, Shepard had to come clean house.

"Why are they turning on the defenses?" Jack asked, coming out of his musing.

"Something about Alliance fighters. I don't have access to sensors."

"What do you have access to?"

"The internal sensors, some of the alarms on this level, and the doors." Eva said, checking her readings.

"Can you check on the other hostages? One of them is also a VIP."

"The others are being kept in the warehouse, after some sort of escape attempt." She typed in commands to view the related files. "The Alliance marines they had here tried to escape. They didn't get far, though. They had one of the heavy guns placed at the end of the hallway. So the rest of the survivors and other hostages are being held in the main warehouse now, under the guard of that heavy gun."

Jack scrolled through the images and camera footage. He grimaced immediately as he saw Greg leading the charge into the hallway. Of course the one person he needed to save was leading the charge. No armor, stolen Lancer rifle, and a dead man's stare that could convince every other marine in sight to follow him into the depths of hell. The very fire he needed in Shepard was what created problems. He paused the footage at the point where the marines surrendered. They had charged under weight of bodies, making the heavy gun overheat and give them a chance to win. The mercenaries cut them down as they ran, but they still came. When the carnage was over, only two marines still stood, and the other dozens of bodies lied still. Greg was not a survivor. Jack was sure that if he had survived that, he would be still trying to wrestle control of that heavy gun and turn it on the mercenaries.

"He didn't make it." Jack said. Priorities, priorities. They wouldn't have a morgue here, but the mercenaries would have to keep their own dead from rotting as well. The most likely end for that would be a fridge or meat freezer. Which meant that it would keep until at least when this revolution had ended. The remaining priorities were twofold. Find Hannah her evidence and escape. "Eva, you can create false alarms, can't you?"

"Yes, Jack. What did you have in mind?"

"Create an integrity degradation failure on the floor below us, with a command to seal all of the doors on that level when someone opens the door to the underlying chamber. Quarantine protocols. Then unlock all of the doors on this level and declare an aerosol emission threat. All of the air will cycle and the sprinklers will go off. At that point, Hannah, you will destroy the power coupling for the floor while I handle the guards in the communications chamber."

Eva had the commands queued and typed up within a minute. Jack waited at the window, watching as the courtyard for Tyrrel Construction headquarters became filled with mercenaries. He felt the window rattle a bit as three Kowloon class freighters came over the mountain, dipping towards the courtyard. He recognized them immediately, from their approach. These were the unmarked ships hiding in the meteorites. They were heading for the courtyard, which would not be good. Each of those freighters had enough space on it to supply, arm, and ship over two hundred men. Another six hundred men would not be appreciated. A fourth ship came over the mountain, this one a bit more trouble. It was still a Kowloon, but had it's forward sections replaced with Guardian Laser emitters and a Disruptor Torpedo launcher. The skeleton of the original modular frame still sat around the weapons placements, possibly ejected off by design. This must have been how the Alliance lost a cruiser. Surprise and Stealth. Another hundred men and arms for them, at least, could still fit on board what was left of the freighter. The Reds were being supported heavily.

"It's ready!" Eva said, but she yelped as something appeared on her screen. Jack immediately walked over to it, seeing a message in the system.

_Jack Harper, I never thought you would do something like this. I had you figured for a Progressive pencil pusher. When I saw you fall off the grid, I thought it was for some new flame. Then I saw your handiwork here. You are looking for someone special, I think. One of the marines some protégée of yours? Or is it simply a child you fathered and promised yourself that you would look after him?_

The message was posted in the temporary file folder, and posted using some old notepad text editor. No way of tracing any input due to how old it was. Two could play at that game, though. He used his Omni-tool to post text through the console to the same program. That way none of his systems could find him as easily.

_To my anonymous admirer,_

_You seem quite informed as to my dealings, as I go to great lengths to keep off the grid as much as possible. By design that must make you a colleague. The Reds are your work, then. You are resupplying them, but to what end will that be? This colony is not designed to be self supportive in any way. Even with steady shipments, it won't be able to last three months before the blockade here starves you. Once winter comes in your mercenaries won't be able to hold onto the territory. _

While Jack waited for the reply, he pulled out the bag and strapped the battery for the spare armor to a block of plastic explosives. Greg wouldn't be needing it now. Hannah gave him a glare when she saw him handling explosives. At her glare he strapped the complete set of plastic explosives onto the makeshift bomb. "I've heard it said that the only way to use these is to overdo it."

"That much and anything within thirty feet is compromised."

"Eva, if I take out the communication uplink, will the defenses fire on anything that moves?"

"No, that system is manual activation only. But computer assisted targeting is there too."

"Good. Let's assume our friend knows we are here. Execute the program and let's follow the plan. Let the guards check out the alarm, while we then cut the power and go in guns blazing. Hannah, you and I will clear the room. Eva, you lock down the elevators and get as much attention as possible on the main floor. With most of their men outside, we should be able to get back to the exterior pipes unmolested."

"What about your investment?" Hannah asked.

Jack would have replied, but the console showed a new message.

_Shanxi is a stepping stone, Jack. The alliance cannot maintain its power as it currently stands. A full fledged revolution will create mistrust in the Alliance's ability to manage its colonies outside the Sol system. The Reds are just one such group that is unhappy with the government. There will be many more. You believe in The Alliance. You call it the future of Humanity. I, along with many others, disagree. Humanity does not need a coddling oligarchy afraid of true progress. It must welcome change, along with the few who must dirty their hands for the sake of progress. But I really must thank you. None of this would have been possible without your initial footsteps. With over a thousand of my people on this supply run, Shanxi now has enough troops to hold off against any assault. Long enough to see a second revolution spark. When my men find you I think I'll have you kept in a tiny cell, where you'll keep until we can have a more personal discussion. _

Jack just sent one reply.

_When we have a more personal discussion it might look a bit more like this. _And with that he executed the program. The console flashed, and the sound of six pairs of feet running for the stairs came past the door. He nodded to Hannah, and rushed forward with his rifle out. All four of the men guarding the outside door were gone, allowing him and Eva to move up to the door. It was still locked, as that subroutine wouldn't activate for a second. Hannah moved up to the wall, pulling the panel off. Behind were the wires, pipes and associated workings present in any building. Hannah busted the entire thing with her shotgun, the shot from the weapon tearing through everything. It also would be noticed. The lights and doors all flickered, ultimately the doors unlocking and popping open and the lights went into the emergency red coloration.

That was the signal they all needed. Hannah lead the way into the room, her weapon firing twice more. Jack was right behind her, pouring fire into a man thrashing underneath the high powered jets of the fire extinguishers. He went down, and Jack moved past his twitching corpse to aim at the man still trying to execute commands on the consoles. With the invention of haptic interfaces, water no longer stopped input. Before he could get his gun locked on the man, a shot ripped through him, courtesy of Eva back at the door. Jack let his weapon go toward the only standing man he could see, who as also bringing up his gun. Shots hit both kinetic barriers but Jack had a helmet and this man didn't. Water got into his eyes and clouded his accuracy. He fell before Jack lost all barriers, and he could hear Hannah's shotgun cry out one last time.

Jack did a once over of the room, finding nothing moving. Hannah had killed three of them. Eva and Jack split the others. He took the seat of the man Eva had shot, and had full control of the system. The idiot who had been typing was still logged into the system. Colony defense and infrastructure systems were all available. He started typing, highlighting the armed freighter as the main target for the defensive towers. The freighter reacted immediately, landing hard on the courtyard and sliding behind an outlying building. He grinned.

"Rook, you are needed at position Bravo, copy?" He transmitted in the open. The Talon did not have any military grade point to point communication systems. It was the fastest way to notify his pilot that all was not well, and that he was needed. With the only things that could hurt his ship either pinned down or under his control, Jack got up and grabbed the explosives. These he wrapped very liberally around the small statue that he knew to be Reaper technology.

"Rook copies," came back as he clipped the bomb in place.

"Alright, time to evacuate. Let's move for the side courtyard. Rook will be here any minute, and I didn't have much choices on the detonator. I picked the sensor method. The next person to send out a transmission, which is to say anything from this console, the blast is triggered. We shouldn't be near it when that happens."

"Would that also include incoming transmissions?"

Jack had to consider. It was hard to guess how sensitive it was. "We might assume so. Let's leave before Rook asks where we are."

No one needed any more urging. They ran for the side of the building where the courtyard was, and could hear guards emptying shots into the locked door. Jack and his compatriots hopped down into the courtyard, using the garden boxes up against the window. He helped Eva down from the boxes, and at least offered the same to Hannah. She gave him a smile and took the offered hand as well. His bets were on her doing the opposite.

The obnoxious sound of his high quality new engines came over the din go the base below. The Talon emerged from its cover, some scrape marks marring his new paint job along the nose and wings.

"I'm h-" anything further that Rook may have said was swallowed up by the explosion that ripped through the upper floor of the building. The force of it knocked over all of them, Hannah got struck by a piece of glass, while Jack got hit with one of the spars. Thankfully it hit him perpendicularly, instead of spearing him. That did not mean it didn't hurt. Kinetic barriers only slowed the object, which had his whole back jarred. He pushed at the heavy metal beam, but it didn't budge. His back was screaming pain to every single one do its receptors. He tried to ignore it, but that didn't happen. Eva was the first person he saw up, her face swimming into his field of vision. She was struggling to pull debris off of him, her face scrunched up in effort. Soon after, Hannah's face also swam into view. She was bleeding from some part of her face. The glass poked through her cheek and nose, but she appeared to be ignoring it in favor of helping him. The light darkened for a moment.

When the light cleared, his helmet was being removed from his head and a flashlight was going into his eyes."Gah!"

"Do not fall asleep! You have a concussion and sprained back!," Eva told him. Her face was above his, and Jack tried to will his eyes to zoom in on her. For some reason the implants didn't respond. Then he came back to himself. He no longer had those cybernetic eyes. He had real ones, that didn't lie to him. She was still wearing her armor, and Jack was still wearing his.

He tried to mumble an answer, as his helmet wasn't on anymore. All that came out was unintelligent moaning. Eva patted his cheek. Jack didn't like that one bit. "Just rest for now. The beam that hit you was one of the big support beams, somewhere around six tons. The Talon had to push it off of you. Don't move, though. Your back is sprained at the very least. Broken ribs for sure." It certainly hurt enough for that. He could barely bend sideways. "I've injected you with caffeine. I'll get some tea and coffee up later. Hannah has been poisoned by some element zero that was on the glass. Not much but enough to make her quite sick.

Jack found a long list of reasons to curse and grind his teeth. Medi-gel hadn't been invented yet. Eva left him for a while, but came back later with coffee and the best pain medications the ship had. Those were, of course, the best. Fast acting and quickly making him more comfortable, Jack settled in for a long wait. Moving his arms moved his ribs, the painkillers not enough to blind him from that pain. So no using the Omni-tool. His one hand was able to reach the vid screen controls, though. The news was bland. So thankfully bland. Nothing had been reported about Shanxi. The supposedly destroyed cruiser was not being reported. Hopefully it was still doing alright. Settling down, Jack prepared himself for the long recovery.

Author's Note

For those of you keeping track of this story, things are about to get more interesting. We just left Shanxi, and the Alliance is finally gaining ground on some of the more peaceful elements within the Senate. I modeled the government of the Alliance off of the US and UK forms. So there are two houses, one for countries and one for appointments. So the Assembly(Made up of members of each country that represent funding and manpower that is donated to the Alliance) is made up of two representatives from each country/colony and have the power to appoint officials for the Alliance Senate. Some countries just hold free elections for their Senators, and some just go with appointments.

The Assembly controls where money is spent, and how much can be spent from the amount each country offers to the Alliance. The Senate controls how the money can be spent, as well as limits on that spending. From the body of the Senate, the President of the Alliance is elected by its members states. The Alliance Navy is made up of manpower offered from each of the member states, and is slowly becoming more of a racial moniker rather than the rich nation's way of controlling the weaker ones.

From the office of President, power to limit or control foreign and domestic policy is extended. They cannot influence any decision made by the Senate, or the Assembly directly. But power is an addictive drug in some cases. Anyways, I'll add more to my universe as seen by Jack Harper as time goes on. Thanks for the reviews. Or single review. My beta has notified me that my original description sucks balls. It will be rewritten.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Jack was a man with very specific tastes. He had extremely specific tastes in women. When he designed the guest room in the Talon, it was catered to those tastes. So for Hannah, it could be suited to her near six feet in height. For Eva, the things he had onboard hung like a tent. Her 5'4" frame wasn't suited for much of anything he had. So when she walked in wearing a nurse outfit, Jack had to blink. What was positively indecent on a six foot tall model was actually perfectly decent on Eva.

"He doesn't need you traipsing around like that." He could hear Hannah say, from behind her. She herself had some sweat pants and a long robe. Both of which came from his closet. She also had stolen his prized Ugg slippers from there. Very unfortunate. Those were the insulated ones rated for negative temperature climates. Which also had their own temperature control system. Her face had long bandages wrapped over her cheek and nose, covering her injuries.

"He is about to have his ribs bound up. I'll call this compensation." She said, holding up some tape. "I didn't want to wear a robe all the way back to Earth, either." Eva probably still wanted to sleep with him. Hannah hadn't shown her opinion quite yet, but Jack was certain that she had at least considered it.

"You two better get used to this." He wheezed. "We have a few weeks ahead of us. Hannah needs my information network to get her evidence and report back to her superiors that she was not at Shanxi, and you, Eva, need a new identity entirely. That will take at least until my ribs recover."

Hannah grimaced. "You are keeping me for six weeks now?"

"Yes. I'm keeping you for six weeks at my artificial island." Jack said. Artificial islands had existed since the early 2080's, and could be found all over the pacific. His was expensive, to be sure, but he used it as an incentive for his employees to work better. The top performers were sent to his island on paid vacation every year. The competition was fierce. "While I find the data you need, your only job is to look like I kidnapped you for reasons otherwise."

"What if I don't want to keep quiet about Shanxi?" Hannah asked.

Jack grinned. He could at least still do that. "You wouldn't get promoted to Colonel in the next year." She snapped her eyes onto his, looking for any signs of deceit. She very much wanted that. "I will be feeding you lines of information, making you one of the top performing agents and the one most suited to dealing with the revolutions that are surely going to crop up following Shanxi's."

Eva had started pulling off armor pieces from his arms, but couldn't get his chest piece off without help. "Allison, help me out with this." She said. Eva didn't have a future unless Jack helped her out now. Any past related to Shanxi was going to be trouble. She wouldn't be hired for a real job again without his help. As they carefully removed the chest piece, his back got pulled by the sliding straps. His world shrank to tiny pinpoints of pain, and even the view of the tight shirt Hannah had on was not enough to focus past it. Soon, though, the pain went away, his groaning in relief that it was over enough to have Eva feel better. She started wrapping his ribs with Hannah's help, which didn't feel good but would be much appreciated later.

"Where is your island at?" Eva asked.

He waited for a particularly painful moment to end before replying. "Fifty miles from Tahiti, in the Roslin formation. I am not supposed to be injured this badly. While I recover it needs to appear as if I picked up you two for my own entertainment on my island. It fits my profile, and right now we need an alibi in case our anonymous friend decides to tip off anyone about me." The Roslin formation was a group of the private islands, all floating near each other but not connected. You could see neighboring islands, but only if you looked carefully.

"For your entertainment?" Hannah asked. He couldn't see what emotion she was feeling due to her binding a rib, but it probably was annoyance. She was a highly independent person, after all.

"Often I will invite models or playmates to join me for part of the summer months. Or just when I get bored. All of my contacts know that I rarely am without some sort of companionship. You both will have to serve as that kind of distraction until my wounds heal, at which time I will grow bored of you, and you both are slipped back into your own lives. Eva will most likely be placed somewhere suiting her skills, and have a new identity. Allison will return to her superiors, apologizing that she was taken for six weeks. Then she will share the secrets she supposedly slept with me for, becoming more important and most likely promoted."

Hannah chuckled. "So all I need is a tan to show for all of this." She certainly liked the idea enough. He wasn't going to mention all of the trouble that this would give her. Her superiors might send her back for more. Though perhaps that time he might actually demand it.

"Inform Rook of our new heading, please." He asked when they had finished. Eva nodded, walking out of the room and heading for the stairs. As soon as the door closed, Hannah turned to Jack.

"She is certainly willing."

"She has to be." He corrected her. "Her entire life depends on me. Photographers and satellites are always watching the Roslin formation, so technically you will have to at least appear the willing type."

"You know what this will do to my reputation."

"Six weeks of reputation. I know what this will do. Other agents will try to do the same thing, to supplant you. We both know how this game is played." He wished he had a cigarette, just to blow for his dramatic needs.

"They will send me to others. Others like you."

"I am an inexhaustible supply of information." He jested. "Perhaps in a permanent posting."

She laughed at that. "Only in your dreams. Those agents don't get promoted." She took a longer look at him. "Did your soldier die down there?"

Jack nodded. "His name was Greg Smith." Hannah tightened her face at that, but her features schooled themselves back together. "He lead a charge with just rocks, knives, and a couple rifles on that heavy gun they had. We didn't have time to find pieces of him. Standard procedure is to ice bodies to keep them from falling apart, but would have compromised our ability to escape." Jack paused. "Did you know him?"

"Once. Though that does sound like him. We hit it off well, but we split before too long." Hannah said, not comfortable talking about her past. Jack could feel the same way. But he wasn't head of Cerberus for nothing.

"What was it that caused you to break up? You were in different divisions of the Alliance Navy." That was normally the trouble for couples in the military, the inability to marry someone in the same branch. But if she was in Intelligence she could have been able to do it no problem.

"Oh no, he just wanted kids." She laughed. "He found out I can't have children." Jack felt his heart stop beating. Hannah Shepard couldn't have children. The hero of Humanity was dead before he could even do anything. His plan now had a serious problem.

"Some accident?" Jack tried to ask casually. His wheezing was real.

"You could say that. My parents were killed in that attack on the Prothean archive about seven years back. Some of the loose fire swept through me, mangling my hip and most of the organs in there. We were poor, and my parents had been out of work before coming to Mars. They had just transferred to there when the attack came. So they fixed up my hip, but just cleaned up everything else." Organ replacement was costly, and reproductive organs one if the most expensive.

"Reports about the attack listed all the casualties, and I don't remember seeing your name." Jack noted. He organized that attack. He needed to remove the Crucible from the archive. It was just a waste of resources and another Reaper trap. He was responsible for this. But he should have known. He investigated every scrap of detail he could about it. But the facts were clear. He had killed Shepard. Before her time, yes, but he had killed her.

"That's when I was recruited for Alliance Intelligence. Though I suppose I'm not to mention any of this, I can trust you to keep a secret." Hannah joked. He was pretty sure she was serious. It was the only way to explain why her name disappeared from all of the records. Henry had supplied it, which meant he had to have some contacts that direction.

"They recruit you but won't pay for the full surgery. Very efficient of them."

Hannah wasn't shocked or emotional about it. "Agents that can't have children won't get compromised on missions like this one, if my reputation is to be kept." He had to stop himself from flinching. He was responsible, that didn't mean he was going to flinch any time it was mentioned.

"You share your secret, I'll share one of mine. What do you want to know?" Jack offered. In either one of his lives, rare was the time when Jack would disclose anything.

"Why did you set the explosives on the statue and not the main console?"

She was sharp, he gave her that. "The million dollar question. In the Prothean Archive there is almost no information about their disappearance. I found data that corresponds to this, when comparing to the archive. Cave drawings and ancient pagan rituals, mostly. Statues like that one have been found on a few worlds out there, and even amongst the Prothean Archive. That one was destroyed during the attack, along with almost all of the artifacts found there." One of the chief goals of the attack, just to remove the possibility of Indoctrination among Humanity. "Those statues are not made from the same material that the archive is made from. More importantly, the metal used for the relays isn't on our charts yet. The Protheans in their archive don't mention anything about making them either. So it stands to reason that they weren't the only things out there. The only things I can find are these statues, and the relays. Did you know that these small statues are made out if the same metal that makes up the mass relay?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "They are from the same source, and I don't think the Protheans died peacefully. I destroyed that statue to remove it from the hands of those who might do the wrong thing. No sense in getting the attention of the things that killed the Protheans, if my theory is true."

"You are going to have to explain yourself on that. I haven't heard anyone mention anything like this before." Hannah said, not keeping up. He had been trying to keep things simple.

"Either share another secret worth my time and interest or return my Uggs and sweatpants. You have your own closet." She laughed at that.

"You are so touchy about your clothes. All of the ones in that closet resemble those playmates you keep going on about."

"A ruse you'll also keep. No one else will be bothering you on the island, but there are eyes and ears everywhere that isn't secure." Jack said. "But taking my favorite slippers is nearly a crime on my ship."

She kicked them off. "How much are those?"

"15,000 credits." He said. Her mouth dropped. "The temperature systems are the same as the ones found on my ship. It's also waterproof and rated for traction even on near frictionless surfaces." One of the most frivolous things he could ever buy, but he had grown used to them in his memories, and as soon as Ugg had developed these he had bought two pairs. One for travel and one for his house. Perhaps Hannah could be bribed with a pair. But something that expensive would only make the ruse seem real. "On second thought, you can borrow the slippers. But don't steal anything further from my closet." It wouldn't do for her to find the military grade kinetic barriers in his suit jacket.

She had them back on instantly. "You are very kind to recognize a woman's desire for shoes." She said, and a moment later the doors to his room opened again. Eva came waltzing back in, grinning.

"We are five hours out from Earth. He said that as soon as you came back onboard he had the ship aimed for Earth."

"How did we avoid notice from the Alliance?"

"Something about using some meteors for cover. I never read much into all of that. Geology and planetary terraforming were more interesting." Eva shrugged. Hannah gave Jack a nod, and stepped out of the room. Once she did, Eva gave a long smile to Jack and sat down on one side of the bed. There was still plenty of room. "So, where am I going to be working? You had me slated for something the moment you mentioned a false identity."

Jack nodded. "There is a company just rising up from the Startup stage called ExoGeni. They have a division just starting that is focusing on colonial development. I want you to be in charge of it."

"How will you pull that off, if I don't exist yet?"

"I'm one of the investors in that company. It was my idea to make this division." Only because they would have it in the future, so it would do no harm to have them create it a bit early. "Details are still being thrown around. But within six weeks anything is possible." Jack motioned to one side of the bed, where a pull out haptic interface rested. "In that time I may need you to type for me. This back pain makes that infinitely more difficult. I also cannot break form, and I am well known for working odd hours and always being available. Consider this payment for the new identity." Jack reached over with one hand and typed on the screen awkwardly, queuing up a catalog. "Buy anything you need. Stay in this catalog, though. This is where my past purchases for companionship come from."

She moved his hands out of the way and started searching. Immediately going into previous purchases. "I was expecting more wild and crazy."

"Most of them used this for buying essential supplies. Order things now and you won't have to wait for more than a day. Or have to continue to test the limits with Allison."

"I thought you'd like this." She motioned to the outfit.

"I do, in fact I found it rather charming that you did that." Actually he found it a sign of desperation, and of insecurities. Eva couldn't process the Shanxi revolution very well. Hannah seemed to be able to compartmentalize, but Eva wasn't taking this violent shift in her life very well. "But try not to cause Allison any undue trouble. If I have two women at my island paradise with me, then that would be because they were good enough friends that they could tolerate one another. Try to cultivate that."

Eva nodded, processing that. He gave her an hour to order things before starting to send messages. To Rook, directions and security codes for the island. To Amandeep, a message to repair any scrapes and to order the paint through Todd, to be dropped off by private shuttle. The shuttle would be flown by Rook, to keep secrecy. To his gym, to send out a personal trainer for Hannah and Eva. Preferably one of the ones with a history in close combat training. Hannah might like that.

To Henry, a notice of where Jack had been the past three days, namely on his island and showing off his new yacht. Also a promise to cover for him with Dierdre Scott. He wouldn't be able to make it to New York by the next week. He also included a small note about her possibly candidacy for the presidential elections. Henry had issues with the laws regulating genetic modification. To him they were too restrictive. Supporting a politician like Scott might get some changes on that, but knowing her it was unlikely. She would use Henry before allowing his money and favors to change her opinion. But if Henry sent her money it would be a start on the favor he owed Scott.

To Todd, a reiteration of the owed favor, and a large thank you expressed in five thousand free visits to Starbucks. The man loved the coffee from there. Then he had to answer three days of emails. They weren't done by the time they hit atmosphere. Jack had one of the forward facing windows installed in his bedroom, which gave him and Eva a view of their entry into Earth. The massive ring of debris from old satellites and space stations was easily navigated enough, but older craft still had to be very careful moving around it. The Talon swept through it, her barriers absorbing the dust particles.

The pacific loomed, it's islands both natural and artificial glittering. Jack had the combined experiences of two lives. To the economist, that was downright criminal. With a mind able to scheme and see patterns in any form of data, it was child's play to gain whatever cash he needed. Some men might go back in time and take greater advantage of this. Become president of the Alliance or something droll like that. Richest man in the world, marry someone in particular. Jack did not want any of that. He lived within the means he had set for himself last time, perhaps with a few more company perks available. Every intention he had was for the progress of Humanity. He supported certain individuals, made certain of the downfall of others. One such person was Donnel Udina. That waste of air ruined many chances for progress with the other council races. Others great and small he changed the lives of, hopefully for the better. He used the information he had from the past memories carefully, as with every change this memoryscape became more different from his past memory.

Eva died last time. During the Turian invasion, he recalled. This time she hadn't had the same hardships. She hadn't been the victim of a sexual predator and become a mercenary. He blinked, coming out of his memories as he felt his back spasm painfully.

"Sorry Jack!" Eva said. "You spaced out for a bit."

"I'm considering my retirement." He joked. He never intended to retire. Not this time. "Rook, that reentry hardly shook. My back thanks you greatly."

"My father threw out his back a few years ago, sir. I remembered how to drive with him like that. Took a while longer, but we are on course for your island at low speed. Turbulence is expected as we clear the cloud layer."

"Thanks in advance, James." Jack said, Eva taking her hands off the interface.

She immediately reported on all of the things coming into the console's message program. "You have replies from Henry and your gym, and a receipt and delivery time for the things I ordered." She said, bringing things up. He pressed on the interface hard, bringing up the order. Eva had spent a cool 12,000 credits from his account. All in all quite cheap for his normal companions, who were used to massive amounts of money being spent on them. He nodded at the order, scheduled to be delivered the next morning. Henry had said he would go see Scott, though if Jack wanted him to donate anything it might be easier to buy him a nice new biological study center. He even sent Jack his preferences. All of those were expensive and all weren't selling currently. That might be trouble. Henry sent one last jibe about enjoying the Alliance agent to the fullest. Jack scoffed at this, and Eva found it funny. The short message from his gym detailed the trainer, a young man from Taiwan. Hopefully someone who could perform a bit of physical therapy for his back as well.

His tracks were covered, as best as they could be. Hannah was satisfied by the promise of further information, and Eva owed him her life. She was being entirely too eager in paying him back, though. Hannah avoided him even more due to this.

Six weeks later, the Talon left his island paradise. He flew back to his home in the mountains in northern Spain. During the troubles of the 2000's, much of the world got torn up in wars and civil riots. Few places were the same after that. Spain was one of the untouched places, and it was where he kept a home. Eva was going on a shuttle to go to ExoGeni headquarters in Miami. She was sad to leave. Jack wasn't sad to see her go. She had been dropped off to meet her shuttle in Mexico City. Hannah was still on board when they got to Barcelona, the nearest port he could park the Talon at. It was the first time he hadn't been in the presence of Eva or his personal trainer in days.

Hannah walked into his room, where he was recovering from the brutality of physical therapy. He had a board meeting he had to be physically present at next week, and he would not be deterred by his back. The ribs had healed nicely, though.

"Allison." He greeted her. She was back in the dress he had picked her up in, though the tan she had picked up in the mean time made it not so much her color. "I trust you got word to your superiors?"

"I did. They aren't exactly pleased to find out that the mercenaries killed Tyrrel. But they are somewhat appeased by the bank accounts you provided. I assume they won't bring you in for questioning any time soon?"

Jack took a moment to consider the possibility. But anything tying Tyrrel to his front companies would have been wiped out in the explosion that consumed the communications room. Even if they did pull that information, it would only prove that Jack was one of a few investors. The others he didn't know about, at least not yet. With communications on Shanxi being completely down, the only information getting out now was being filtered through the military's channels. It carried nothing concrete. Rumors of an Alliance offensive starting from the other settlements on the planet could be confirmed. But there was nothing about combat with the Reds or taking of territory. One report listed an order for tanks of some kind or heavy weapons needed at the offensive.

"No. Anything I did has long since been made irrelevant. If anything is found it will only frame Tyrrel further. The others involved have similarly disappeared."

"You're sure you can find them?"

"It will only be a matter of time and effort on their part. Few people have the ability to figure me out. They think like I do, which makes them rather troubling."

"Can't handle your peers?"

"I have dedicated myself to the progress of our race. Those people out there might be dedicated to something much more dangerous. Especially if they have anywhere near as much resources as I do."

"How hard will it be to find them?"

"If they are still operating on Earth, likely difficult but not impossible. If they have already broken the cordon and set up somewhere like Tyrrel had, a few more years of work. But I'll find them. Perhaps in time to stop the next Revolution attempt."

Hannah took that all in and looked a bit relieved to hear it. But she did give him a glance, almost curious. "Jack, about that Prothean theory, where did you hear about it?" _Your daughter_, he thought. _Your daughter who was supposed to be born in 2153. Five years from now_.

"A conspiracy theorist on the Informer. Even though half of what they publish is completely false, some leads turn up there. I followed that one. Finding a piece of metal from the relay to test and compare was a bit harder. But if I remember correctly you didn't return my sweatpants."

"You own ten pairs. I saw. One for each of the colleges you support."

"To be honest, the offer was more for the entertainment value at the time." She rolled her eyes at his statement. "If you want the answer to that question, I'll want a bit of information. Namely, the files in the Alliance Intelligence database regarding the attack on the Prothean Archive, the Reds, and anything they found on Tyrrel that I did not."

"What are you hoping to find there?"

"Your promotion. Or a future for Humanity that doesn't lead to a civil war." Jack motioned to her purse. "That seems a bit small for everything you're taking." He then offered her the Uggs that had been worn the entire six weeks. "Take these and a bottle of the best from the bar."

"Trying so hard to bribe me, are you?" Hannah quipped, taking the slippers.

"Call it a symbol of our partnership. I'll get you to a position where you can do the most good, while I get information when I need it."

"That seems remarkably illegal. I'll have to consider it."

Jack handed her a card. It had his personal contact information. Only a few people had this, and it was a measure of trust that this communication line wouldn't end up being monitored from this. "Memorize this and burn it. This will connect you to my Omni-tool at any time."

"I can't promise I'll ever contact you again though." She said, "My-"

"They'll break. Unless they want another Shanxi to happen."

Hannah didn't seem to trust that. "Then I guess we will see each other again."

"I'll try to interrupt when you aren't on assignment, next time."

Hannah smirked. "Goodbye, Jack." Then she walked through his door and off the ship. Waiting on the dock were two uniformed Alliance soldiers, who led Hannah towards a shuttle, already ready to fly away. Probably in for a very long debriefing. At least she had a bottle of his whiskey to tide her over afterwards.

It was two months later that Hannah replied. A dead drop was arranged, and one of his interns did the pickup. He believed he was just picking up something for his department manager, the kind of thing that got you noticed in a company. He never saw the final destination, as Amandeep picked up the package from outside the managers office. He then mailed it to a post office box that Jack used. Two days of waiting to get his hands on the data disks she had sent.

They were encrypted, but not terribly. The first file was the Intelligence Report of the attack on the Prothean Archive. The second detailed dossiers on some list of Progressives, possibly the label that he and Henry were under. The final data disc was the known list of Shanxi Reds and a video file. He started with that one.

She had been at home, evidently. A rather modest affair in somewhere rainy. Her bathrobe was tied up to the neck and the nearly empty bottle of whiskey sat in view. "I hope you know how I feel about all of this. It is certain that you'll act on this, and I recommend you don't. You are being observed closely. But even so, I am trusting you with this. I can't see much of a connection in the data you sent us. My superiors claim otherwise but I know better. They just want to steal any credit from me that they can."

She shifted in her seat. "I loathe the idea of you getting this information. I know you'll take advantage of it. But we can't afford to wait. The Reds are on the move again, and we can't risk the fall of another colony while the fighting at Shanxi continues. The Alliance doesn't have the ships or manpower to handle two of these things." She glared at the screen. "I need you to find out where they are going, Jack. Before this happens again. When you have something, find a way to contact me that won't create too much attention. I promise ill respond through the proper channels."

The video cut off. Jack knew he was under surveillance. There had been scrutiny into his finances that hadn't been welcome lately. Companies with no business in his own were making approaches, looking for inconvenient partnerships. Jack did not enjoy being a known piece on the board, not one bit. It wouldn't be long before he started seeing husks at this rate.

The data listed the identities of many of the people who had supposedly been on those unmarked freighters. They had been commissioned by an alias, as the Greek dictator Yusef was well known to be Earth centric. The four ships had been bought by him, and then disappeared to the massive Chinese port of Hong Kong. A half working security camera caught the ships boarding and lifting off from an old school from the 2030's, which had become a haven for some of the gangs locally. What was interesting were some of the people who had gotten on board. All of them were poor, and only half of them were local Han Chinese. The other half seemed to be a mixture of brutes from all over. The Chinese half were mostly artisans and craftsmen. Not the sort of people you brought to Shanxi.

He brought up a list of previous jobs they had worked. Textiles, construction materials, shipyards, and drug stores. All connected to the local gangs, so their supposed jobs could be cover for some other deeds.

Researching their gangs provided little more information. Everything from drugs to weapons rolled out of Hong Kong's factories, being barely policed and never investigated thoroughly. With three hundred skilled laborers, the Reds could build whatever they wanted as long as the colony could supply their needs. None of the people boarding were connected to Yusef, even to the fourth degree. The dictator's financial records showed nothing related to ship expenses.

So, the Reds had quite the financial backing, and a force of men that had adequate support and labor. Looking more closely at the list of people, Jack brought up the footage from Shanxi. His helmet recorded everything. It was difficult to have its information double checked, as he wasn't supposed to be there. But he did confirm a few faces. They matched one of the local factory owners in Hong Kong. He was responsible for making some factory equipment and turbines. But the steel and aluminum that went into the factory could cover more than that. Possibly enough to modify a Kowloon class freighter without much trouble.

Still, that was on Shanxi. That wouldn't help the Reds plan their next attack. Jack had seen some trouble brewing all over. Riots had started in the more densely packed slums on Earth, from people trying to get transit passes to different colonies. That was on hold, while the Alliance verified the safety of their colonies, but left a desperate group of angry civilians. Jack had to play the game of where he would go next, to destabilize the Alliance. Indirectly, Jack would destroy their funding and investors, removing their ability to fund a military before the budgets came due.

He had planned for that. Funding for the Alliance was being brought in from all over, as angry and affronted countries realized that Shanxi might slip from their grasp. Fund raisers and support dinners all thrown for Dierdre Scott, as well as for others, had created a positive return there. Member nations were contributing more, and the talks on the budget allocation were at least moving towards military spending being doubled.

Going directly at the Alliance would be hard. It would have to be in Arcturus or Sol systems, as transit elsewhere was being heavily curtailed. That left only a couple locations, but Jack put his money on Arcturus. There was a helium mining colony that had been the first colony established outside the Sol system. Rarely visited and unusually stable in its economy, it had become a boring spacer outlet. One mall to support all of the 30,000 citizens, and the entire station critical to supplying ships with fuel that were traveling to outlying colonies.

Jack put a query in, for all movement to the station in the last two years. Jack had spent a year planning his little rebellion, and the signs were there. Someone else had the same idea, but didn't have a location in mind. Jack provided that. So there should be signs of who came and went from the station out there. Thankfully the station was rather diligent in keeping up with who had visited. If anyone had edited the information, Jack would have a harder time noticing. They had a lead on him, and he was starting on cold hints.

It would be a little while before he heard anything back. But he felt certain that the Reds would target the helium fueling stations next. Without them, ships travelled less and felt more unsafe. During the Reaper war this had created feelings of extreme desperation. Considering that, he put in queries to the res of the helium stations nearby and as far out as Shanxi. It would be suspicious, but he could write it off. His firm had just accepted a deal with Exxon, making a basic query easy to hide behind a more in depth search for profit values.

He was operating out of the _Talon_ right now. The Intelligence people had gotten to his house in Spain, and he couldn't be sure he found all of the bugs. The _Talon_ was a haven, and he had no shortage of visitors trying to get his attention. They had tried infiltrating his firm, and had for sure turned his partner Reid into an asset. But he worked in civilian capital investment. He couldn't just fire someone because they liked being bribed. If it wasn't the Alliance, it would be some other firm looking to take him down. Such was business. Jack could deal with that.

Hannah would be harder to contact. She might need to be led into a trap of some kind. Or at least into something Jack would be known to do for anonymity. He had made his partners in his Cerberus days go through large hoops to get to him. This time around Jack hadn't needed to do much of anything like that. But he did have a pen chance for drama. While the queries went out, he walked over to the guest room, forming a plan. If Hannah were being watched, as he was, then the Alliance would notice if he sent anything to her. Glancing at the closet, he did a quick tally of what he might be able to send her. He walked back to his desk, and bought a ticket in first class for Hannah to get to Marseilles. Jack had nothing there, but the Talon could park there. The trick would be getting her followers and tracking devices lost.

The ticket he had printed. It was set for a flight five days from now, and he wrote in pen on the back. He also taped a locker key to the ticket, which would lead her to further instructions after these.

_Allison_

_Please join me in Marseilles. Pack light and don't bring the slippers I bought you._

_Jack_

Hannah wouldn't be able to say no. Not when her orders were clear. But with five days Jack would be able to find out what she wanted and prepare it in such a way that she could understand it. He sent the letter inside a postcard from Marseilles. It would reach her in five days. So she would predictably have hours to make the flight. All the movements of a man with an ego, demanding the presence of his mistress. It was in keeping with their ruse. He grinned, walking back to the guest room to prepare the rest of it.

Allison H. Shepard had not been sleeping well. Her superiors were breathing down her neck for information leading to stopping the Reds, or their supporters. Her own leads kept turning up falsely filed permits and officials that had no memory of signing certain documents. She couldn't prove anything, as video footage required a permit to get, which you needed to file for. By the time her superiors would sign off on it, the files would no longer be available, or listed as classified.

Being blocked by her own people was just frustrating. Being given a random set of data points from Jack that could possibly be a clue was even more frustrating. Often times the possible connections were too outlandish for her, yet Jack claimed most of his data from traces of cargo shipped correctly, freight lifters reporting crates over a certain weight, and her personal favorite, improperly filed cargo shipments. She hated trying to sift through his work. She knew he had more direct lines of information, but it would probably expose him. The bastard. She glanced at the last few ounces of hard whiskey he had sent her off with. The damn rich bastard.

She sat down at her desk, bringing up shipping records for Hong Kong and it's fourteen different ports. This was going to be a long day, she just knew it. Illegal happenings occurred there all of the time. Finding which ones were actually worth getting approval to investigate and then getting the permits to do so would be the next hard part. She had barely sat down when her bell rang.

"What is it, Evan?" Her landlord never bothered her without reason.

"You got some fancy mail. Didn't want to leave it out in the rain, as you don't get any very often. It's got some pretty French on it, too." Allison opened her door far enough to yank the mail out of his hands and shut the door quickly. Her landlord was a nosy type. The kind of man you could lose hours of your life talking to and when trying to recall exactly what you talked about, nothing would come to mind. He was either an agent of amazing ability to be a social butterfly, or he was just idiotic. She was betting the former.

"Thank you Evan!" She called through the door.

"Of course, Allison! You know you can come by anytime!" Oh, she did. It was just completely unlikely to happen. Ever.

Her mail came in waves. A few Christmas cards in the beginning of December, and again in late January, offers for vacations in May, and offers for coupons divided throughout. This didn't fit any of the normal mail. A scented French envelope rested thickly on her desk. She brought out her tools for detecting poison, and didn't find anything on it. Though the scent appeared to be some sort of cologne. After testing it, she opened it up. Inside was a post card of beautiful Marseilles, France. Puzzled, she opened it.

A ticket stub fell out, for her local shuttle port and going straight to Marseilles, first class. The note on the back took a moment to digest.

_Allison,_

_Please join me in Marseilles. Pack light and don't bring the slippers I bought you. _

_Jack_

That smug-faced egotist was getting on her nerves. But he was smart, and he did get her the information she needed. A small key was taped to the ticket, for some locker number 56. It must be in Marseilles. She glanced at the ticket, curious. The shuttle left in an hour and a half.

"Mother-"

He must have planned that. She had barely been able to throw anything together into a travel bag and run for the port. But heaving and breathing laboriously, she had made it on board the shuttle. Dignity was no longer intact but everything else was fine. The shuttle was only an hour long, and soon enough she had her travel bag and was in Marseilles' massive port. It was a little while before she found the lockers. 56 was one of the oldest ones, in a blind spot from the cameras. Jack was being his usual paranoid self. This part of the port wasn't even meant for normal civilian travelers. It was for freight, mostly, as the newer sections were much nicer.

She rolled her travel bag over to locker 56, and the old key slid into the old locker with some difficulty. But inside lay a nice little briefcase. It was one of those real leather ones. She pulled it out, and popped the hinges. Inside it was surprisingly empty, but for another note. This was written on some little street painting, unsigned and done in oils. It could have come from anywhere.

_Allison. _

_You can't meet me until you've lost your scent. Use the second stall in the bathroom next to you. I apologize for all the trouble, but you are going to find what you are looking for is worth all of the trouble. _

She grimaced, but walking into the old bathroom anyways. It looked seldom used. With Jack's leather briefcase and her travel bag, she pushed her way into the middle stall. It had a small business card for a restaurant, nothing on it. It had been shoved into the hinge of the door.

Suddenly the bathroom door banged open. A pair of feet maneuvered to the stall to the left, and sat down. A small black purse was placed down on the floor, and then pushed into her stall. The woman spoke, a thick French accent coming through.

"Your sweet man, he say to tell you to take off all you things and give to me. He say you smell like a rat." Her voice was nasally, but quiet. Damn his idiotic paranoia. Jack would of course make everything impossible like this.

"No thanks." She replied.

She laughed. "He say you would say no. Wrote on card." A hand reached under, holding another business card to the same restaurant. Allison, everything up to your hair tie could have an Alliance bug in it. You wanted to meet with me, remember?

She muttered a curse. She hoped she would see her things again. "What will you do with my things?" She asked as she removed everything.

"Take money. Bring bag to man in taxi at West Bridge." The woman said, sliding a pair of black stilettos under the barrier. They looked complicated. By this time she had taken off everything, they even looked foreboding. The woman immediately grabbed her things, taking both bags and leaving Allison with some scary shoes and a small purse.

"Hey!" She yelled. The woman didn't come back. Or reply. Nor did she want to risk getting too much attention on herself. She didn't yell twice. The purse was maybe the size of her fist. Opening it, she could see some silk inside. Predictably, Jack had sent her lingerie. Probably some little ego trip. She didn't have much choice, though. The rest of the purse was stuffed with a thin silk dress, and enough cash to pay for a taxi.

She slipped it on, immediately wanting to shoot Jack Harper. The little cocktail dress barely covered anything. Light and made of some expensive silk, it didn't even have a tag. It fluttered easily. Lacing her feet into the stilettos made this even more daring. When she stepped out of the stall, her hair was loose and she looked like a prostitute. But she looked nothing like Allison Shepard. With a nod to her new reflection, she started walking outside the port. Women glared at her for being so daring. Men stole looks at her, but never quite looked at her face. There was no hiding this. One man even followed her for a while, and in these shoes she wasn't able to run away.

Jack's idea was terrible. This was not a good idea for cover. She got to the exit without much trouble, but scowled all the while. Right now she had to depend on Jack to get her things back. Knowing him, this was all for some sort of entertainment. The taxis lined up to be able to take her, though. A short skirt will do that. She gave the unmarked restaurant business card to the driver, who immediately took her there. He didn't try speaking to her, but grinned lewdly when she arrived. She didn't have enough cash left to go anywhere else, though.

The restaurant was garishly painted, and had a figure of a woman lounging on one side of the building. She found the entrance easily enough, and walked up to the front reception desk. The main part of the restaurant was behind some drapes, suspiciously hiding the inside from view. The host was giving her a curious look. Not in a potential customer kind of way either.

"I'm here to join a friend for dinner?" She offered. The man didn't say anything, but looked down at his interface.

"You are ze Alley Cat, yes?" His English was terrible. Ever since the panic of 2000's the French had become even more hateful of the English speaking world. They made it a point of speaking other languages when possible.

"My name is Allison."

"He say he waiting for his woman. Alley Cat." The man said. Allison grimaced.

"Yes. Alley cat. Yes." Damn Jack Harper. He was going to get shot one day and it was going to feel amazing. Even if it wasn't her doing the shooting.

The host nodded, opening the curtain and taking her inside. It was surprisingly a security station, checking for unwanted items. With so little her check took seconds. Then it was into a main room. Dinner tables were arranged around a stage, built like a fancy gentleman's club. Most of the people here were men, understandably. The women were present, carrying all of the food and wine. The most curious thing of all was the uniform. Black cocktail dresses that didn't hide much, and gigantic black stilettos. Allison realized she was wearing that uniform.

The host led her past drunken groups of men and into a small alcove off to the left of the stage. Inside was Jack. He was on his Omni-tool, typing some message to someone important. He didn't even glance up. Her host motioned to the table. He then spoke perfect English. Damn French. Damn Jack. Damn dress.

"Sorry for the wait, Mr. Gunn. She is ready now."

Jack's voice replied in clear French. The host nodded, and backed off. Then he finally looked up. Allison probably looked and felt completely out of her element. "Get up on the table, look like you are giving me a show."

Each alcove had drapes. She clumsily got up onto the table, kneeling on it across from the largest ego in existence. "I am going to kill you for this." She whispered, moving as if she had something to show. Jack just pulled the drapes. Shapes were still discernible through it, but the noise quieted.

"If anyone asks I invited one of the local call girls into my alcove. Currently the real redhead call girl is taking taxis around the city and leading your followers on a merry little chase." He said. "The real Allycat is taking care of your shadows and hiding our intentions. She knows nothing of our arrangement other than the fact that I needed her to let another girl take her place tonight. For what I paid her, she won't mention this. She has a drug addiction that will be fulfilled enough by this bonus that she might forget all about this."

Jack leaned back, his silhouette one of enjoyment.

"The next attack is coming on New Java." He said. "Drugs, weapons, and explosives have been moved there in rising quantities all of last year, but no one has noticed a change in local economy or new holes in the station's hull."

"Damnit Jack." She said, trying not to fall over. "Can't you just tell me this normally? I have a comm line for a reason."

"Move closer. Don't act so distant." He said. "That's not the real problem. Their plan is to destroy the Alliance flotilla. They will have to split their attention on Shanxi and Arcturus sector. When they do, they will refuel at New Java. If they succeed, the Reds might take over Alliance ships. Either that or destroy them. Either way there are enough armed men on that station to take it over easily. There are twenty five marines total onboard. Most haven't shot a gun before in aggression." Jack placed his hands on her legs.

"Don't touch me. You've done enough to my reputation."

"The only way out of this club is with me. They think you are the real Allycat, drug addict and in debt to the owner for thousands of credits. Right now, I arranged us to meet here because of your dear friends in Alliance Intelligence. They got the alcove right across from me." Hannah nearly froze. "You realize how this happened. When I came out with information they put me on a watch. So, the only way to get anything to you is to do something a bit underhanded like this."

"I'm not sorry." She said, ignoring the churning in her gut at the thought of her superiors realizing what she was doing. "You are in possession of a lot of information."

"Information mostly provided by you for my current endeavor." He noted, "But it gave me the clues necessary. Tomorrow morning I'll pick you up from your chattel for breakfast. The filtered data will be handed over at that point, but with none of the evidence gathered. I'm giving you the directions now. With my ever present new friends you'll find that I have had to take my security a bit more seriously."

"You couldn't have decided on a less risqué location?"

"These men don't speak French. I've been dealing with them for two months now. They can speak Spanish, though. The host here only respects those who speak better French than he does. Turns out he happens to be Swiss. So he gave them the ugliest thing he could dredge up. While they suffer through terrible French acting, and I have my own private show, they can do nothing. They are very adept at tailing me in most other locations. Even when I take out the _Talon_. They have a high speed shuttle for following me."

"We don't train idiots for field work." She said proudly enough.

"You came along willingly enough." He quipped, moving his hands to appear as if they were being more intimate. "So, ready to get your life back?"

"Yes, please." Perhaps she might wait to shoot him, until he gave her every slip of data that she needed to move up in her job.

Jack gently opened the alcove, pulling Allison down to the ground and pulling her towards the doors. His new friends followed closely. Though they might have offended half the staff in their haste to keep up. Jack calmly greeted the host, and probably told him of his intentions with 'Allycat' in French. Their followers got slowed down when the host demanded they pay in cash. By the time they were outside, a nicer taxi had picked them up. It was one of the flying models. There wasn't another on the street. Jack escaped his handlers with a wild grin.

"You remember what I said about New Java?"

"Yes." Of course she did. Just like how she would remember this and mention it to no one for the rest of her life.

"Good. The clues are in last year's shipping records. A slow progression of extra items that tailed off twelve months ago. Also of note are the hints of corruption in the harbor master. He owns a house on Earth. Somewhere in California. I've included his information and where to find him."

"I really don't want to thank you for all this." Allison muttered. "But you are probably saving my job."

"Let's aim for more than just that." He said, reaching past the seat and pulling out the bags she had lost in the airport. Allycat had dug through them, taking all of the money. "Here are your things. The briefcase now contains the arrangements for your bed and breakfast, and a few wine tours we will be on tomorrow. All in perfect cover."

"Jack, this better be worth the trouble. You owe me some answers." Allison warned.

He just grinned that egotistical grin. "It will be. Get some clothes over that. You can keep it, of course. Allycat will be here any minute."

Allison exited the taxi right as a nearly identical woman to herself, plus signs of drug use, took her place in the car. Just down the street was her chattel, and in moments Jack left her there. Her feet ached and she still had on everything underneath some pants and a long jacket. That bastard. She hated him, but could respect him sometimes. He did do some good work.

"I can keep the dress. Bah! Who does he think he is?" The nerve.

The next morning, during the wine tours, he slipped her the data discs necessary. All of it damn fine work. All of it just in time to save New Java. Her superiors could claim nothing of her work. She had done the hours, dealt with Jack Harper, and presented her evidence. For that, she saw her first promotion in three years.

Jack had picked up his followers again somewhere near the docks. Allycat looked like she was in the middle of a daze, barely blinking. She had probably already spent all of the money she found. He dropped her back off at the club, some two hours later. Her drug habit was destructive, true, but she was the closest person to resemble Hannah that he had found. Useful, but only for so long. One or two more times here and his followers might realize Hannah was the one he was going for.

But he had done it. She had her information, his followers weren't any wiser about it, and Jack had no fingerprints on it. She would pull the evidence herself, and with everything she had, it was time to make her superiors look terrible. Terrible by inviting their agent out wine tasting and gallivanting through the French countryside. She was openly nice and courteous the entire trip. But their followers were close enough to breathe down their necks at times. Business talk, or talk in general, was extremely restrained. After three days of wine tasting, whiskey drinking, and nights in the chattel, he sent her off with a datapad that only hinted at the data contained in the two other data pads. It would be the one that her superiors would immediately find, while the real things were hidden in that purse she had been given and mailed to her new post office box, courtesy of Jack. Her other mail was most certainly under observation.

He had made quite the reputation for Hannah already. Dependable, with extremely high level contacts. She presented the findings on New Java within days, getting the attention of her higher ranked officers, who were able to reroute the Alliance patrols scheduled for New Java. Instead a horde of customs agents that were most likely staffed with intelligence officers as well descended on the station, and found enough evidence to send marines in. A few spots of combat occurred, but they had gotten there before anyone could apply any explosives to critical locations.

Hannah was rewarded with a promotion. Jack was rewarded by making a few toasts in her honor. He went on the lookout for the next possible attack, as the Reds would need to keep up their momentum from Shanxi or become outright terrorists to survive. He knew the feeling. Cerberus had been that way. Speaking of paramilitary groups, gun control laws were becoming steadily tighter, and the Alliance Senate had voted to arm militias with actual weapons grade armor and weapons that were rated for real combat situations.

A real victory in his book. The shipyards run by Ashland-Hislopp were already running 24 hours a day, as the Navy quietly got their ships up to speed. Recruitment was up, but they lacked the ships to get the new manpower anywhere. There was real progress in Humanity.

Then the unthinkable happened.

"Jack," Henry said during a business call a month later,"I am getting married and I need a best man." Jack actually coughed into his drink as his body tried to process what his mind could not for a moment. The eternally single Henry Lawson was getting married. He noticed Jack coughing and laughed uproariously. "Is that a yes, then?"

"Of course Henry. I wouldn't miss it. Who is the lovely lady?" In his memories Henry had become more distant with humanity in general as he grew older. He avoided companionship, too, after a while. It's what made him a perfect person to manufacture the Cerberus troopers. Something must have changed. But this made his plans have to change even further.

"Her name is Janet. I met her thanks to your little donation push."

"Did she want it get married? Or is it just you?" Jack asked, honestly curious.

"Jack, we both did. She is about as near to physically perfect that I have been able to find, and leads a firm that doesn't compete with my work in any way. Unlike the rest of those vultures at those dinners. Wretched lot, all of them." Henry had an obsession with perfection that bordered on compulsive in his later years. Jack would never have considered the man capable of not falling back into that obsession.

"Some are necessary, though." Jack said.

"Complete rubbish, Jack. This government can't handle anything right." Henry hadn't ever talked like that, either. He had believed the Alliance to be a good system, not restrictive enough to stop his research or progress. "When elections come around again you'll see. I may have donated a bit to Scott, but I will be pushing for a real candidate this time. One who will make certain that my research won't be blocked by some bloke who thinks I'm testing my products on every member of society."

"I'd be interested in meeting this real candidate. I have quite the vested interest in your research." More so now that Henry was the best chance at real genetic modifications that didn't lead to someone getting indoctrinated. Jack wasn't the only one to have found cybernetic enhancement technology or developed it. Others would find it. That was a fact. Humanity needed a safe alternative.

"I'll invite him to the wedding. You can meet him then."

"Speaking of which, what exactly am I supposed to be arranging for you?"

"Just a good run of golf, and a few hours at the sports bar sometime during the week. The wedding is already arranged for in Melbourne."

Jack didn't have to do much for that. But at Melbourne he could park the _Talon_. "I have someone I'd like to invite. Can you send me the invitation?"

"Hopefully not Dierdre Scott? I'd like my wallet to stay attached to me on my wedding day, at least."

"Oh no," Jack said, smiling. "I have someone else in mind. You introduced me to her, after all. I should at least express some thanks."

"That Alliance Agent? Jack, you aren't still sleeping with her?"

"Of course I am. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement. We trade information as well."

No matter how true or untrue it was, Jack had created the ruse. Henry would see that Jack was still with Hannah, and Jack had to keep her close. Especially since it was his fault that she had been wounded while working on Mars.

The data file she had given him listed five extra casualties. Both of her parents, as well as herself, were listed with their injuries and cause of death. Two others were also listed, a Grace Constantine, and some form of Muhammad based Arabic name. Grace had died from the hostile team of gunmen, at her station in the Prothean Archive. She had refused to leave it. The Arab was covered up to remove the chance of religious responses to the attack. The Middle East was still a very disputed area. Oil was still used for energy and material production, and they had the best reserves of it. Grace was the interesting one. Removed due to personal concerns. No other data had been listed, and Jack still hadn't found any sign or lead on who she was or if she even existed. No coroner report either on her.

"It's dangerous to play around with a thorny rose, Jack. You should just let her go, before she finds anything too incriminating." Henry said, finishing some long speech that Jack had filtered.

"I might have traded for that already," he joked. "You might be curious as to what they think of you. As well as their thoughts on your research and foundation."

"You traded for their files? Oh Jack, she must be terrible in the business if she is letting that through."

They were talking on a secure line, and Henry was a good friend. "I had to agree to help investigate Shanxi. But whenever you are interested, I'll be open to share what your dear friends in the Alliance think of the 'fascist of DNA'."

"Terrible business, that. That deal is complete rubbish. You're worth more than a pretty face and some files you could just pay for otherwise. I am interested, Jack. During the bachelor party we should slip off for a moment and deal with this. What will this one cost me, then?"

Jack gave him a wolffish grin. "Gene mod 12. You said it failed in most cases?"

"Jack, that never left development and I never should have mentioned it to you. That thing was so blatant that i never could have gotten it through regulations."

"But it was conceived a few years ago, then. Haven't your gene mods become more stable, now? Stable enough to implant number 12?"

"I don't know. That might not be an option, Jack. Do you really need a gene mod that invasive? That could destroy your throat and mouth."

"It's not for me. It's going to be for Shepard."

Henry sputtered. "There is nothing so impulsive and dangerous as giving an Intelligence agent the very technologies they are looking to convict us for developing!"

"I need to do this as cover for something else, Henry. At least consider my proposal. You know I would never make any plan without considering every risk."

Henry gave him a look of distaste. "It would take a great deal of consideration to convince me to remove that from the vault. I would rather you pick a mod that isn't so inflammatory."

"If I can't have the number 12 in development, I would be interested in the mods for night vision or thermal vision, as well as the improved lung capacity." Jack offered.

"One of those never went past the drawing board. But I'll be more happy to give one of those than number twelve." Henry seemed greatly relieved. He already got enough bad press for his normal work.

"I can look forward to that. I'll have to reserve some club nearby Melbourne for us. But first, let me completely ruin Hannah Shepard's day." Jack said, forwarding the invitation to her mail address. It would be there in digital form in moments. Hardly anyone printed invitations for weddings or parties anymore. It just wasn't done anymore, and mail services hated delivering letters. Some locations were just listed as undeliverable now.

This would totally rile her up. He left his own addition to the invitation, a time two days beforehand, with a nice little quip about her actually needing to dress up for this one. Sure fire and perfect way to rile up Hannah and convince her to go. But she might be useful to have around. Jack didn't have the same connections that Henry maintained. Henry had inherited a great deal of wealth from his parents, and had a lot of business and family connections to the old money. Much of the guests would be from that group. He would need an extra set of eyes on these people.

Author's Note

So, effectively I am keeping a couple chapter ahead as I write this. That way me and my beta can catch anything that is about to slip through. Things are looking up for this story, as I have written everything leading up to the first contact war. It will be released once a week, no matter how far I get ahead on the actual writing. Before the summer is over we will be in the actual Mass Effect 1 storyline, where things will be changed drastically.

To all the reviews, I know that not much is happening, but I do feel thankful for your comments. I grew up in San Francisco, and my family worked as Investment bankers and businessmen. I understand that much of how the world works comes down to how much money is invested in the onset of a company, or startup. A lot of startups are just there to develop the technology and then sell it off, to one of the larger and more established corporations. Others are out to make a name for themselves or some unique product.

For much of what Jack Harper is doing, it is focused around investing in the rising startups that will define Humanity and its industry on the galactic scale. With knowledge of the future, he could have all the money he ever wanted, but that would suit no useful purpose to him. Money is only of worth when it is in motion, or being used to propagate ideas and effort. For him, making human products into something unique and amazing is his entire focus with his companies. Profit is natural, but more will come for the rest of humanity once the proper industries are in place. So, thanks for reading, and I hope that my little rant here makes sense.

Aberron


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

There is nothing so blatant as a thirty foot long shuttle being used to pick up someone from their house. The noise and wind kicked up from it were immense, and had neighbors up in arms about it. But Jack wanted to do this. Hannah needed to be strongly independent, and Jack was trying it encourage her to view him as a resource and not as a friend. At least for now, until he could get rid of his ever present Alliance tenders. He had even gone out to lunch with them, and learned their names. Both claimed a fake last name for certain, but Jarvis was a rare enough first name that it just felt right. His partner went by Bill.

They rarely offered him conversation, but he had been able to get them to eat with him a few times. Once he had pinned them down at their table during a crowded dinner rush. They were affronted that he would even approach them. When he offered them tickets to the opera so they could go with him and observe, they accepted. Bill genuinely liked it. Jarvis did not, or was just focused on the job at hand. Every step was meant to make them more comfortable with Jack's increasingly complicated schedule. Or at least cost the Alliance a bit less money in monitoring him. His expensive tastes required more than a few expensive checks to be written.

He had tried to go the spending money route. But it appeared that they had gotten around that with the new budget expansions. He couldn't just make it too expensive for them to maintain it, so his new route was by befriending the agents who had been assigned to him. They had tried to get onto the _Talon_ many times. Perhaps they were exploring the friendship for the chance to place bugs all over his ship. Either way, it made for more interesting lunch conversation while he researched where the Reds would go next.

Whoever had control over them also had a deal of hacking skills. Jack had some brute force methods learned, but left scripting and programming malware and spyware to the trained professionals. He had no one like that on his staff, and hiring any of the ones on the market would only scream his presence to the world. So, Jack could not deal with this complication easily. He could recognize the marks left in data sources where entire opinions or written reports had been left out.

It didn't help him very much. Missing data was missing data. Each was a mystery and due to the unknown contents, each one could be worth hunting down but most likely wasn't. It may have just been removed to leave a false trail to follow. They were worth following to someone, just not to him. His time was too important to risk on these or on projects like Shanxi. It's fate was sealed. The news from the front was that Alliance marines had the Tyrrel headquarters building under siege. Casualties were extraordinarily high. No mention was made of the four Kowloon class freighters.

Jack thought it extremely unlikely that they would have escaped. But if they did, they would have had to get fuel somewhere. Somewhere like New Java or Yan Xia, the gas giant near Shanxi. It always had Alliance personnel on board, but could have been used. Jack didn't want to try to get that information yet. With the scrutiny he was under it would only raise eyebrows.

When Hannah walked out of her house in something blandly casual, Jack wondered if it was just preference or if she purposely made him wait twenty minutes. Most likely her vindictive streak still ran high. She had three bags and a pistol tucked into her lower back. He slid open the door to the shuttle, and under the watchful eyes of her curious neighbors she took his hand and got onboard.

"Your neighbors are probably wondering why you made me wait for so long, considering I gave you a few weeks' notice."

Hannah had a smile that only widened. "You invited me to an event that my superiors have been trying to get someone into since it was announced. It was suspicious enough that my boss showed up to brief me personally."

"I find it hardly suspicious to invite you to an event that requires a partner of some kind. It's also courteous to invite someone capable of intelligent conversation." He told her, motioning to Rook to drive off. Pulling out his Omni-tool, he started writing a message. Hannah sat next to him, taking a look at the message.

"Who are Jarvis and Bill?"

"My minders. I've taken to sending them messages with my schedule so they don't have to work as hard. Otherwise they spend quite a bit of time and money belonging to the Alliance." He let them know that he had Hannah and had payed for their parking spot in Melbourne, and had filed their flight plan. They never replied, but had never refused his help, either. Hopefully they were enjoying the help.

"You wouldn't want to weaken the Alliance, now would you." She mocked. "But I have something for you. Or rather us."

"I'm listening." Jack faced her, putting away his Omni-tool.

"The Alliance has a target for you to mingle with. He showed up on our radar a few months ago. His name is Donovan Hock. South African, one of the few surviving white South Africans. He owns the entire diamond mining operation in the country. Recently, he won a seat in the Alliance Assembly. When he ran for the Senatorial seat, his competition got scarce." Hannah said, her face scrunching in concentration as she recalled details. No data pads came forth, meaning that her superiors must have only released this by word of mouth. Probably the reason why she was late. "He is running for a committee in the Senate. The Naval committee. My boss wants you to investigate him, before he makes that vote."

"You mean before he might end up in control of the funding for the Navy, which is a threat to them." Jack said. Donovan Hock had only been on Jack's radar when Shepard and Kasumi Goto wanted to steal from him. He had been in possession of human and alien artifacts at the time, as well as the head of the American Statue of Liberty. That artifact was currently missing, and purported pieces were all over the black markets of Earth. He was the scoundrel type, but one that had lots of deals with mercenaries. All of that was after Humanity had entered the larger galactic community. He couldn't remember if Hock had any history before then. "This will cost a price, you understand. I risk a lot by approaching him directly. It's suspicious to do that without being introduced or invited first."

"I don't think you have the ability to ever agree to a straight deal. That's what I understand. A better question is what are your demands."

"As much as I love being watched, I don't really find it helpful for business. Less active surveillance would be my first requirement."

"I might prefer your methods of meeting with me. That one I can promise to some degree." Hannah nodded.

"My friend Henry is under a lot of pressure in his gene mod development. If that pressure were relieved, he would be able to finish his next bit of work directed towards our military." If she was willing to break the rules a little bit, he could always go for the bigger fish.

"That's politics. Can't promise what we don't control." She shook her head.

"Then perhaps a more helpful demand. I have an idea for a business your superiors will like. I want it to pass through every bit of red tape and get staffed by your officers."

"What is this business for?"

Jack brought up his Omni-tool. Highlighting the file he wanted to show her, he tried to keep his grin under control.

"The Cerberus Foundation? What good will this do, then?"

"All the good I have the capacity in me to give." Her snort of derision followed that statement. "A Foundation dedicated to creating a better human. Using Henry's gene mods and the weapons and armor of Ashland-Hislopp, as well as a new corporation that just got the permits to develop heavy weapons. Markov Heavy Industries will create the next generation of weapons for our soldiers. Cerberus is the three-headed dog that defended the gates of hell in times past. The foundation I plan to establish will provide armor, weapons, and better technology specifically tailored to the special operations arm of the Alliance."

"Jack, you don't have much of a history of doing any of this. I can understand you have tendencies towards supporting the Alliance, but doesn't this seem a bit too out of your element? I mean, you are an entrepreneur specialist, not a career soldier."

"Humor me. I want your people on this. The foundation will be staffed by those agents and the members of companies I own prevalent stock in. It will hopefully create a new generation of soldiers that can quickly and efficiently deal with problems like New Java and Shanxi."

"I guess I can present the idea. It won't go through, I am sure."

"Oh, it will. When I present it with you. But before that, we have a wedding to enjoy. I hope you packed something expensive."

Rook had brought them back to the _Talon_ by that time, requiring a short walk between shuttle and ship. Hannah's bags were carried by James, and she held a purse. "I brought the best." Hannah said. "Though I would imagine you already bought me something."

"If you don't have something there are ten different Dior and Leracchi dresses in your room. I assumed you would be bland or middle class in your choices." At that Hannah rolled her eyes.

She waited until they were inside the ship before saying anything. "I've been looking for your Prothean theory. I haven't seen any of what you told me about. Nor have I seen anyone research the metal on the relays in any depth to prove your statue theory. So, was all of that just lies to hide some other incriminating data?"

Jack gave her a level look. "Do you want every detail? The full truth? I can tell you where to find it, where to dig into the details, and where I found my opinion. But the price is steep."

"Jack, last time you offered this to me for a pair of sweatpants and slippers. Humor me."

Hannah was not liking his evasion on this. Jack walked over to one of his consoles and accessed his core server. He then pulled up his galaxy map, which was understandably mostly undiscovered. He put it on the large haptic display in his bar, the map extending six feet out. Next, he called from memory the exact location of The Citadel. The coordinates were entered, and the location glowed.

"My theory may sound outlandish, yes, but it's more than just a theory. You very well know the Prothean Archive was damaged some years back. One of the missing files mentioned this point as being the place their people were destroyed. I hope to find out why when the Alliance opens the relay past Shanxi. Though I can understand if they want to reinforce Shanxi first."

"Jack, I don't want more misinformation. The mere fact that you claim to those missing files is incriminating, but you still have not told me the full details."

"Last time I told you that I gave you the other option out of entertainment value."

"I suppose this is all a farce to get me to sleep with you, then."

"If you want to believe that. I could have gotten companionship from you or anyone else for far less."

"I would like to see that proven." Hannah was very skeptical.

"I wager that you will prove it yourself." He said, sending the galaxy map back into the bar. "When my theory is proven, and something is there, you will come and prove it."

"If nothing is there, then you will be buying me one of these ships and supplying it."

"I see the price of your body is quite high." But there was nothing like betting with a stacked deck. "But I can agree to this. A billion credit ship investment against you sleeping with me. Seems a bit unfair and one sided to me, though."

Hannah looked smug. "Most women would claim its a fair price."

"Most men are desperate enough to agree." Jack said. "But I am not most men. As such, I would say that a single night isn't quite fair in this agreement. To which I offer the following compromise: if you win, I will pay for your ship and it's expenses for a year. By the same alternative, I would claim a similar length of time." Jack poured a couple of glasses of whiskey and set them down. "Would you agree?"

Hannah probably assumed false bravado. "As long as this doesn't include indentured servitude, of course."

"I'm sure." Jack said, passing her the glass. "I look forward to seeing you in my bed."

She clinked glasses. "I think I'll name it the Handsome Jack."

Jack made a show of grimacing. "I think that we probably should find more appropriate table talk going into a wedding. Especially when I am going to be risking my neck for you." He really did have to grimace at the harsh whiskey going down his throat. But he had gotten a bit more accustomed to the harder liquor.

Hannah snorted into her drink at that.

Two days later, and after one rather tame bachelor party, for Henry and Jack's standards, the wedding ceremony was held in a little private chapel outside of the city. Henry had positively beamed at what his file said from the Alliance Intelligence. Turns out he was well liked by them. He used real auditors and respected the government, even when the same force restricted him. So they actually had a lot of curiosity and general interest in his products. But they also had him under semi active surveillance. Hannah was actually assigned to him when he took her to Shanxi. They both shared a laugh at that, though Henry still didn't know about the trip to that planet.

Being the best man, Jack had to observe many formalities. Such as the toasts, starting the first dance, and his personal favorite, the embarrassing moments of photo and video evidence of their lives up until they met. He had the projector display some of Henry's best and worst moments. His first company, first car(that one was a brand new car, but Henry looked so pleased with himself Jack had to put it in), first time in jail, and every single ticket he had gotten for poor driving. There were a few of those. By the time the first dance started, the photos had finished and everyone was enjoying a good time.

The guests were all very high class and had the best. Armani and Dior were common sights. Hannah had ended up taking one of the dresses he bought her, and complimented his outfit nicely. He had met most of the guests just by accompanying Henry, though still hadn't met their target. Hock did not make the ceremony. So when an express shuttle arrived halfway into the dinner, Henry and Jack had to go see who it was.

A security guard got off the shuttle first, followed by Hock himself. He had a small beard, very closely cut. He was young, or younger than Jack was used to seeing. He sometimes had a hard time picking out faces, as some of his memories were from forty years in the future. Hock looked to be in his twenties. A very dangerous man if he accomplished so much at that age.

"Jack, I'd like you to meet my favorite rising politician. He just might very well go far in the Assembly. Even better, he is running against that human rights filth." Henry reached out to shake Donovan's hand. As they shook, Hock and Jack took in one another. "Donovan, this is my good friend and best man, Jack Harper. He has his hands in almost every major company you could name. Jack, this is Donovan Hock, Senator from the South African Republics."

"Pleased to meet you." Jack intoned, but was more searching in his glances. Hock was dressed better than Jack was. But Jack had to fit his kinetic barrier into the jacket of his tuxedo, and limited his options. Hock didn't have a gun, but his hands were calluses around the knuckles. That was only achieved from many years of work. Old calluses, he could feel, but Hock still had that grip.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Harper. Henry tells me you are an active member in politics and in business."

"As active as anyone else may be if they cared so much." Jack said, "But if you are interested in a debate, I would welcome the educated opinion. Few others at this table seem to have an edge to theirs."

"Jack, if I may call you? I'd like to go on first name basis with those of us with real power. We are an elite group, and we have a responsibility to ensure the safety of the rest of humanity."

"I trust you would extend that responsible outlook to your job, then." Jack said, Henry leading the way back into the dinner party. Hock's seat was right across from Jack at the table. Hannah looked positively mundane next to many of these women, but she had qualities that they did not. Like the ability to shoot any target in the room without missing. When they made it to the table, introductions were made again, but Hock introduced himself with the title of Senator.

He ate and addressed a few interested parties, but after a while he and Jack returned to the conversation. "Jack, what is your opinion regarding the recent expansion in the Alliance military budget?"

"My investors and companies profit from it. Some of the poorer countries and states hope this gives them an opportunity to escape rampant inflation and debt, but I have my doubts. My most recent investment that you might be interested in is the Ashland-Hislopp shipyards. We can finally start making those dreadnaughts that the technicians have been developing."

"Those are a complete waste, in my opinion. We should instead be focusing on the lighter frigates and cruisers. There is nothing that is threatening enough for a kilometer long starship to be necessary. If I get onto the board, I hope to focus the naval spending on what is needed, and not what is intimidating."

They needed those dreadnaughts for the Turians. There was no way that they could resist them successfully without the heavy hitters. Cruisers would not be enough. They already had a massive technological advantage over humanity, as well as a numbers advantage. Humanity needed a punch that could kill the Turian cruisers that would be in their invasion fleet. "I'm not worried about the threat of a few pirates." Jack said. "I'm worried about a possible threat from elsewhere in our galaxy."

"We have time to worry about that kind of threat, Jack. The only proof we have of that are inactive relays and the Archive." Hock replied.

"I think we need to consider the threat. When we uncovered the Prothean Archive, we found berths for eight ships to be able to land there. From its files, we know that this was fringe space for them. But to have berths for eight ships in a fringe world. That suggests a patrol group size of at least fifteen ships, some of which were longer than a kilometer. Following that expectation, anything of a patrol size that comes through the relay might be able to challenge the main battle fleet in its entirety."

Hock carefully considered the information. "Are you that concerned about outside threats? Or is this a profiteering on such a scale the rest of the world will suffer for it?" He had a smile on his face as he said this, however. He might have found it curious.

"This is all speculation, but if it turns out to be correct, I don't want the only answer to conventional warfare to be guerrilla actions and raiding parties. As it stands whatever comes through any of our inactive relays will find us easy to defeat. Our militias are weak, marine contingents rare to find on the ground, and our troops are too few in number outside of Earth. If we were attacked, we would die."

"I didn't have you figured for a war hawk. Henry I assumed, but you I thought would be open to a few more radical ideas." Donovan said as the rest of the table politely quieted for their talk. "Ideas like changing government policies instead of ramping up ones that do us little good."

"We just had a short revolution and you claim that changing policy will do more good?" Jack said, smiling at the inner joke. Knowing the future was such a burden. "The Navy has taken some casualties in this revolution, and from that we can tell that their commission was too weak. No policy change can be enforced until the Navy can back it up."

"Unless the policy is more domestic. Perhaps workers rights? I hear the palladium miners are demanding higher wages. Only half of them are going to make it to old age without complications. Or maybe, Jack, you would prefer something like a Freedom of Information Act. Make the Alliance more accountable to its citizens." The act mentioned would require the Alliance to declare intentions with local law enforcement, and weaken its ability to be a universal policing force. Not only that, but it would force the government to full disclosure of all activities within two days. It was a piece of garbage legislation.

"The government would sacrifice its ability to deal with threats like the Reds if it had to ask for permission from local authorities whenever it wanted to do something. There might be riots and otherwise if it came out about the losses at Shanxi."

"Every government must make sacrifices for the sake of progress." Hock stated. Jack knew that statement. It churned, turning over and over in his head on where he had seen it before. Hock had told Shepard about mercenary work using the same statement. More recently, he had seen that statement on the console in Shanxi. Very suspicious. He couldn't take any actions on this, of course. But it all merited investigation.

His Omni-tool glowed. Jack wasn't about to check it at the table, and got up. "Give me a moment to answer this." Hock nodded, and Hannah got up due to boredom, most likely. The talk among the women was all about the rising problems on Shanxi and how each of them were donating to charity foundations, dedicated to some cause or another. Hannah's donations had all included a blood price. As they walked to the nearest door, Jack opened the Omni-tool.

_All accounts and messaging rights are suspended. Please contact your provider to reinstate your privileges. _

Jack grimaced. He didn't have any plan with any provider. He was the owner of the providing company, and piggy backed along their signal. If he was being denied service, something had to be jamming the area. Tapping on his interface, he noticed that even the news feed was frozen. Wide enough jamming for this was expensive.

He stepped into the hallway, finding two waiters pushing a trolley full of confections. They were reaching under the trolley, their hands both pulling at something heavy when everyone looked at each other. He was about to ask them if they had a phone handy when he noticed them both tense up. Normal staff would not tense up. When one of them started pulling out a pistol, Jack saw that he was too far away to interfere. So he did the only logical thing.

He pulled on his lapels of his jacket, and watched the stunned man's face as his shots stopped cold.

Jack punched the man right after that, before any more shots could be fired. The kinetic barrier in his jacket was probably depleted from just the three shots against it. His partner was met by Hannah. Six weeks of training with an Asian specializing in personal therapy and hand to hand combat created brutal results. She crumpled her wine glass into the partner's throat. Jack didn't see much of anything after that, as he had to deal with a thick necked man of European descent. He kept trying to bring the pistol around, but jack kept barreling on his right.

The shots would be noticed, but more worrying was the fact that the men had tensed in response to seeing Jack. They were looking for him. As he fought over the pistol hand with the madman, as only an idiot would try to kill him, he kept his trigger finger off of it. Jack had a hold on his wrist. They tumbled, the cart full of confections hitting the ground and spilling out an assault rifle. He couldn't survive any of the bursts from that.

Jack was being targeted by someone. This was a widely publicized event that he could not have used his normal methods of concealment. Anyone could have called this in. But he had been careful in his steps. He had to assume that it was someone smart. So as he strangled the gunman, he tried to see if any of this added up. Donovan Hock might be connected, but that was unfounded. A difference of opinion during the first meeting could be expected. Henry had plenty of guests here that could be willing to kill off a few members of their direct competition. One of the problems with having so many investments and connections was the threat lying at the end of the ever expanding circle.

"For a business man, you certainly know how to kill people," he could hear Hannah say as his man went quiet. She had finished off hers during the ensuing trouble.

"We are being jammed. Someone here is being targeted." He avoided her unanswered question.

"I count three different members of the Alliance Assembly and your egotistical ass." She replied. "Any of you might be the target."

"The Senator and two members of the Chamber of Representatives. My bets are on me and Hock, unless he organized it." He pulled the fire alarm with the strangled mans hand, and even here he could hear the roars of frustration as everyone and their twenty thousand credit outfit got soaked. The screeches from some of the women were especially painful to hear. Jack was a man of very few desires. Wine, women, and saving the human race from destruction were the orders of his usual day. Hearing the scream of a women in twenty thousand credit dresses getting soaked meant that there usually was no follow up from a party like this one.

Hannah, to her credit, must have found something about this funny. Her cackling laugh could be more suited to a dingy bar, and then there was the accompanying snort. Not Jack's finest date moment. Jack noticed that he was still dry. His jacket's barrier system was still functioning, keeping him dry. That would be suspicious to see, If comfortable and helpful to keep his suit undamaged.

"Let's get out of here while those crazy bats are crying. What exit did you leave Bill and Jarvis at?" She saw his state of ignoring the spray of water and gave a glare. She looked like a drenched cat herself.

Jack started leisurely walking, trying not to splash water into his suit. "Kitchen doors. Most direct way back to the landing pad for the public shuttle."

"Why the public one?" Hannah said, tearing the dress open so she could run. "Your shuttle is better!"

"Mine is most likely a smoking wreck. Hiding on public transportation will give us more protection in the short term."

James Hansen had never had as much ginger beer as today. Jack told him to take it easy today, as the party would take all day. So, he had some expensive French food he couldn't pronounce, and enough ginger beer that his belly was near to bursting. So, naturally, he had to go to take a leak. He had parked on the private landing pads, right next to some Senator and Assemblymen. So there was a nice hill there, but not a single bathroom within a quarter mile.

Most of these shuttles had them installed. Jack didn't have one on his, preferring the extra leg room. His shuttle was also much smaller, but had a top speed of extraordinary. Jack demanded the fastest method of travel possible. So, James slipped over behind the hill for his break. When he started back, he brought out his phone. Waiting for Jack Harper was like watching a bomb about to go off. He enjoyed taking his sweet time for leisure, but when business came calling he moved with all the speed he could muster. The shuttle had to be ready to fly at any time, and had to be kept ready during almost any function or party.

James had a rough first few weeks on the job. Jack Harper slept during the hours of two in the morning and six in the morning, standard eastern time when the global exchange opened. James was expected to maintain the _Talon_ and acquire shuttles in each of their stops. He would drive the shuttle in each city, suitably ignoring any traffic warning against speeding. He had yet to have any speeding infractions that forced him to show up in a district court. Apparently Jack paid for all nine of them. James had been told to maintain his speed.

Once back on board James would then be piloting the _Talon_ to go to his next port of call, or his next meeting. Sometimes when he had a day or two free he would want to have the _Talon_ orbit Saturn or Venus. All of this meant that James had to live by Jack's schedule and sleep or slow down when he did. Which was when he would die, apparently. The food was nice, the bed was a bit firm, and the drinks could flow like a river. Jack Harper wined and dined with multiple guests each night he was in a town. He had five companies to directly run, and what seemed like dozens of companies he simply was a board member. He also had a hair stylist willing to be flown anywhere in Alliance Space every seventeen days, to keep his hair perfect.

This also included a launderer, a personal trainer, a second personal trainer that was also a physical therapist, a dentist, and a team of skin care professionals that showed up apparently every six months. He hadn't added any staff to the _Talon_, instead leaving its care to Amandeep and James. The rest of the support staff were only on site when needed. But they held together. At the cost of sleep and vacation days. But James was compensated a few thousand credits for every day he skipped. He wasn't that close to his family anyways. Amandeep went on vacation, though. The week that happened, he and Jack had the _Talon_ just rest in port.

Coming back up the hill, he mused on all of this. When he was hired by the company to be a pilot, he thought the pay was great. Then they had him fly for their largest stock holder. Jack had him fly to Shanxi. After that, his contract was bought out and Jack no longer wasted his time arranging flights everywhere. The money was amazing. Six figure income, full benefits, and cash and stock rewards for overtime. Jack paid his extra sixty hours a week in stock to different ship companies. During down time he liked to trade them. His salary was enough to support his extended family and pay off student debt from when he tried to make it at the university. If he ever talked to his family he might be more open to supporting them.

As it stood whenever Jack finally died James would be out of work but very well off. Stepping around the last shuttle in between him and their current shuttle, he came to a stop. Someone was right under the port thruster, fiddling with something. Their uniform was that of a maintenance worker, but those guys didn't carry pistols in the seat of their pants. James got behind the current shuttle and pulled out his wallet. James half written down a small card of things relevant to his job.

_Jack's Reaction Guide_

_-People have been trying to kill me for years. Always assume the worst._

_-Don't sacrifice yourself. Try not to get shot at._

_-During an emergency, hide on public transportation until you can procure your own._

_-Always plan for the worst._

_-Jack Harper must never lose his mobility._

Jack, after he had sprained his back, was irritable. Unable to move and unable to go to business meetings, he had become a grouch. The only person willing to deal with him was Eva. His trainer had gone into the room every so often, and he and Allison had often turned to games of pool or otherwise to kill time. They had both been in the military, so they had enough to talk about for a few weeks. Eventually they had to invite Amandeep in just to have conversation topics. Eva hadn't joined. So James made sure to always have everything ready to be mobile at any time.

His card was a reference guide of dealing with his boss. It was also the thing he kept right next to his phone. Bringing it out, he got ready to call the office here. He hadn't asked for maintenance, nor had he allowed any of the workers here near the shuttle. To his surprise, his phone had no service. That had never happened before. Jack told him that there were enough redundant parts of the comm network that it took a significant amount of effort to deny service to a large area. That meant that someone was denying service. Even in the shadow of Venus he had a consistent connection.

With his phone down and his shuttle being meddled with, James had to assume this was an attempt to kill Jack. He had only seen one such attempt, when someone was hired to take a shot at Jack. Jack calmly told James to park somewhere the police wouldn't have to interfere next time. This might be another attempt.

So, with the shuttle being fiddled with, James turned around and walked for the other parking lot. Shuttles were great, but the nice thing about shuttles was that you could always replace them. Getting another vehicle was easy. Getting another pilot? More effort. Jack hated doing things twice. So James just walked up to one of the private transportation companies and paid three times what the thing was worth. New shuttle, no hassle. Jack always let his money be an active force for good.

Now he had to guess where Jack would be. Headed for the easiest place to avoid notice and escape, if James had it guess. Jack liked to mention public areas as being safer than private ones you already owned. Jack never went to any of his houses anymore, living on the _Talon_. When asked about this, Jack only mentioned that everything else was compromised. He didn't explain further.

So, James went for the side of the building that was nearest to the public parking lot. He was honestly surprised to see Jack coming out of the building on that side, with Allison and the two government suited guards that Jack always had following him. With practiced ease, James landed the shuttle in front of Jack and set it down as the doors slid open. This model had a few nice touches, but it was not up to their usual standards.

"Mr. Harper, did you need a ride?"

"James? What happened to the shuttle?" Jack asked, a slight grin adorning his features. Everyone except for Jack was soaking wet. His shoes were, but the rest of him was dry, while everyone else looked cold.

"Saw someone rigging something on it, so I went to the main lot and got another one. Figured you would need a ride if communications went down."

Jack helped Allison on board and gave the two suits a look. "Well, you've been quiet enough company in the months so far. You're welcome to come with us, As long as you don't try to put any unnecessary bugs anywhere."

Bill and Jarvis both nodded, and got on in the back seat behind Allison and Jack. "Where to, sir?" James asked.

"If they had the balls to shoot up Henry's reception they will be perfectly willing to shoot up my houses, too. Instead, I think we need to talk to your boss. Allison, where does he live?"

She sputtered, squeezing water from her hair.

"I have no idea, why don't we just go to the office of Intelligence?"

Jack shrugged. "Because that is always being observed. Our connection would become plainly obvious, and I would lose good business when my clients believe I am actually some lackey. We need a neutral location."

"So you want to go to his house? How neutral is that?"

Jack lit a cigarette, and the door of the shuttle closed. "He seems to like invading my privacy, so I thought it fitting. Get us out of the jamming, for sure. From there I'm sure we can find a place to meet."

"What about the _Talon_?"

"Tomorrow's problem. Right now getting us to safety is much more important. She is either compromised or surrounded, if they were after me."

James lifted off, and immediately after leaving the surrounding ten miles was contacted. "Attention vehicle. We need you to pull over immediately." A vehicle declaring its ownership by the Melbourne Police Department told him.

"Sir, I don't like this." He told Jack.

"If we land it will be less suspicious!" Allison said.

"Don't land. This area isn't known as a speed trap." Jack replied. James was going to follow that. His problem was that this shuttle couldn't outrun anything, nor could it maneuver. "We are still inside the area being jammed. The point to point radio is all we or they have." The glow of his Omni-tool lit up the back of the mirror.

"Copy that cruiser, we were just trying to clear up the radio. You know what is going on?" James said into the comm. Then he turned to Jack. "I can't outrun them and they are armed. If they are here to kill us they would have already started firing. With the jamming up these might just be paranoid cops." He started heading down. The cruiser followed, keeping pace with them.

"No idea. Radio and everything else is quiet. We are going to take this as a disaster situation and land everyone." A good idea for dealing with civilian problems. The things following them were a little bit more dangerous. "Looks like we will have to just direct you to land. We've got another two coming up behind you." James received coordinates to some ancient gas station along a ground road. As he flew into it, he turned the shuttle to face the oncoming craft.

He had a horrible moment where he thought he saw a weapon come out from the lead car, but it just turned out to be landing gear as two more cars were directed to land. He must be just seeing things. "Sir, I think we are safe."

"Just run the radio and let's hope the jamming blackout ends. I hope my assailants know how much I despise seats that don't have built in heaters. Or being surrounded by the perpetually silent." Jack griped, probably a form of coping.

"Keep the heat up, James. Not all of us have kinetic barrier systems in our formal clothes." Hannah griped back. She was still soaking wet, and the two silent observers in the back seat just remained quiet. Though they did drape their coats on the seat to dry off easier. James had the time to be able to notice one of them shiver a bit. They hid it well.

"Not all of us had to hire someone to invent a suit jacket kinetic barrier. It adds weight to the suit. It is also far more expensive than any other gift I've given you." Jack replied, his fingers flying on the interface. Hannah shivered in reply.

"Have you ever been apologetic about your actions, Jack?"

"Only if someone is suing me. Though if I accidentally get you injured I will apologize for the trauma. I will never apologize for the reasoning." His boss was complicated. That was for sure.

They were kept for hours at the quarantine checkpoint. When all was said and done, Jack decided to completely purge the items, rugs, and walls in the _Talon_, leading to James getting two weeks off while Jack went to some intelligence safe location for a briefing. James had only one issue. With an advance pay of his entire first years salary with his first contract, and two months of pay from Jack, with his bonuses and massive overtime. All in all, James had enough money to buy a shuttle or four.

So, when he landed in the California coastline area, he didn't go straight to his family. The first thing he did was head to a real estate group's office. James wanted a nice house. His parents had shoved four kids into a three bedroom house. It wasn't very fun. So the first thing he wanted was his own space. What it would be filled with he didn't know, but it would be good.

By the time James landed in California, Jack Harper was in the middle of some serious trouble. As his ship was being fixed and debugged, as some fiddling had occurred, he had to spend his time somewhere. Hannah offered the services of the Alliance, as he had apparently been saving them thousands of credits by paying for his minders at all of his events. They were ordered not to talk to him, but he somehow got their comm numbers, and kept them updated. So their review had been a glowing one.

Hannah's reports had one more colored. That had a bit to do with the fact that she was still in a ripped Dior dress that had water damage issues. But since Jack had made himself a target, and her house he had so elegantly called attention to, she wasn't safe anywhere. Her things from the _Talon_ were still en route to them. He polluted the room with his still dry cigarettes, and did his best to appear comfortable and at ease. Bill even brought him some very nice red wine from somewhere.

"We never did have a more convenient person to keep active tabs on. This one's on me, Mr. Harper." Bill said. It was the first time Jack had heard him speak. The southern drawl was a surprise, but Jack smiled in return.

"Your hospitality made it worthwhile. I do so hate spending good tax dollars on myself." He said to Bill. "When is your boss going to show up, then?" He was supposed to have been waiting for him when he arrived. Instead they had been waiting three hours. Jack did not like waiting. He could tolerate being waited on, but anyone making him wait more than thirty minutes deserved to be ignored while Jack did business with those more available.

On queue, the doors from the secure area opened. In walked a few more suited guards and two people that stood out. Runja Ross was the leader of Intelligence that he could publicly find, as she had presented findings to the Alliance Assembly before. She was the very vision of intimidating. Jack was glad she had passed away before he started Cerberus last time. She was part black, and in her mid sixties. Before treatments were invented, she was hit hard by a case of Lupus that destroyed her skin's pigmentation. When treatments were invented, it was too late for her to recover. So she had scale like growths on certain areas of her skin, including her face. It made her hard to look at. She had a permanent glare attached to her face, and seeing her smile could probably rot fruit.

Jack wouldn't touch her if he could avoid it. She was the public leader. Behind her was a small shrew of a man that had an Omni-tool. They were more distributed since their big reveal a few months ago, but it was rare to see them in use. Jack was doing his best to change that. Seeing another meant that he had some connections. The shrew-ish man was typing fast, but made mistakes every so often. Jack could tell when his hand would tense up slightly, pausing to deselect the word misspelled and replace it.

"Jack Harper." Runja said in her voice, ruined by the Lupus. It sounded like a Turian trying to hum.

"Mrs. Ross." He immediately returned.

"Don't get too comfortable. I've just come from six different suspects who have all named you as an accomplice."

"I beg your pardon?" Jack stated, letting his eyebrows rise up. "I don't work with anyone on an accomplice level outside of the bedroom." He didn't glance at Hannah, but judging by how the chair next to him jumped and tensed up, she must have been giving him a look. He didn't meet it.

"I've got the only surviving officers in the Reds that surrendered on Shanxi. All of them got a comm message about prisoners on the second day of the Alliance counter attack. Two of them were paid by a bank account owned by your non existent extreme relative, who only seems to exist on paper. So, Mr. Harper, please tell me why I shouldn't have you in the interrogation room next?"

Well. _Damn_.

That is what being impulsive lead you to. "You are probably aware of a certain group of financial and political elite within the Alliance that cater to certain causes. Some believe that the Alliance is not strong enough or militarily capable enough to deal with domestic problems. I happen to be one of those. I believe in an Alliance whose Navy and marine corps can stand against pirates and other undesirable elements. Our problem was that those elements had not yet left Earth to threaten our colonies." Ross and everyone else were quiet, listening. The man with the Omni-tool was recording his speech. "This is not something that can be quoted in a court of law, as I have my rights. I haven't seen my lawyer yet."

"I don't care about your rights. Currently you are implicated in the Shanxi rebellion. The mess there is so bad and so morally questionable that it's presence alone in the media is sacking the current administration. We can't even send any footage from the ground back here without causing riots. And technically, my mission statement is clear. Find, interrogate, and kill any person associated with this. So, you think real long and hard about what you say, because if I don't like it I will shoot you right now, and I won't regret it. Your friends are all dead. They just don't know it yet." Ross motioned to one of her men. He had a large shotgun, which was handed to Ross. She leveled it at him, prompting Hannah to look a bit worried.

Jack acted suitably cowed. But inside he was doing the numbers and probabilities that he could still get out of here without trouble. The numbers came back low. "Our problem was that the Alliance needed something to bite its teeth on. We considered funding a pirate group, but decided that there was not enough black market infrastructure in space yet to attempt it. So, the next best thing was submitted to the group. Stage a hostile takeover of a high value target. One recommended the as yet unfinished Arcturus station or New Java station. I recommended a target that wouldn't set back the Alliance for years. A planet, possibly thinly colonized. Less risk to colonists and would get the larger colonies prepared for the possibility of more of the same."

Ross still hadn't shot him. So he drank more of his drink and finished his cigarette as he explained further. "Our group operates through public enquiry today and other newspaper programs, as well as other encrypted communication protocols through Alliance space. Tracking it is difficult, and trying to figure out who posted anything specifically is nearly impossible. I say nearly because you must analyze speech patterns and writing styles to compare with. Sometimes it's easier to identify, other times it isn't. I don't try to with the shorter messages. But the longer ones I can usually attribute to one person or another. My own contribution was simple."

He leaned back in his chair, finding no drink or cigarette left to tide him over as he stared down the muzzle of a shotgun. "I posted twice. Once to let the group know that I had found a possible loyal moralistic type of mercenary to lead a possible attack, and that he could be trusted to get the job done. The second posting was that I had armed the mercenaries with supposedly defective armor. I had tried to plan for an Alliance victory. Bissel and Tyrrel were not looking for that, I noticed. They seemed to disagree with the general plan. Tyrrel had them brought into Shanxi, and Bissel or someone else altered the armor being sent in. So the mercenaries were from a varied group, some from the African and South American continents. Others were from France and the Russian states. I only contributed perhaps fifty people to this, expecting a hostage situation. Imagine my surprise when Shanxi was falling. I immediately acted on this, working with Allison to find out what had gone wrong from my end."

"Her reports are rather thin on details of how that was accomplished. Or why you felt the need to use her for six weeks to do what should only have required one at the most."

Jack didn't take the bait. "Personal preference. I hadn't had my redhead quota filled for quite some time. The details were rather spotty and hard to come by after the first week as well, since something destroyed Shanxi's communications network."

"Yet our agent somehow found enough evidence to point to two dead men, and not a single shred of data pertaining to your own involvement." Ross said, pointedly. "Why ask about Alliance prisoners?"

They must not be too deep down that rabbit hole if he was being asked this. A slightly comforting thought. "I have much more invested into the Alliance military machine than most people realize. Your shipyards are my endeavor, I own more than thirty percent of them. Your armors that were deployed, I also had shares in. My dear friend, Henry Lawson, who just got married, has a few gene mods that were being tested by the military. These are the future of humanity's ability to project it's strength into the galaxy, and I was querying if one of his subjects was on Shanxi. My intention was to try to get them back. That obviously didn't happen."

"Mr. Harper, I think you are going to be spending some time with us. Something about you just makes my stomach churn."

"So you are holding me against my rights when all I have done is try to make the Alliance stronger?" Jack asked incredulously.

Ross just gave him a long look. "Your rights see suspended until we perform an audit and search everything you own. Agent, you come with me for your own debriefing. The rest of you take Mr. Harper to room two. There shouldn't be any blood in it."

Jack had slipped Hannah his OSD from his Omni-tool, before they arrived. The disc in it currently was generic, the one he used to monitor the stock he publicly owned and traded. So she was unlikely to find anything. "I have clothes onboard my shuttle craft and on board my ship that Allison will be able to pick up. Perhaps you can have some sent to wherever you'll have me kept."

Ross just watched him as he was taken away, Allison not betraying anything to Jack or to Ross. She was not looking forward to this. Ross never talked to individual agents unless you were in deep trouble. She had a habit of making agents retire due to stress related experiences. Ross handed the shotgun back to the security officer, and then glanced at Allison.

"Shepard. Let's talk in my office." Ross led the way to a section of the wall that opened as she approached. Another security team was just behind it, ready to come in and subdue Jack in case he was able to stop the four men who were around Ross already. A two minute walk took them to another featureless door that appeared to be an airlock. Upon opening it, she saw that the airlock was a fake actually opening to an interior office. It had no furniture other than a couple of metal chairs and a simplistic desk chair and console decorating the desk.

"He's lying."

"It's Jack Harper. Of course some of that was a lie."

"Some? I don't think anything that he fed me was anything truthful at all. Bissel has been investigated, and nothing came from that. Nothing in his system went towards the Reds. Tyrrel we haven't found anything newer than last year. Shanxi was too damaged by the time we took the headquarters. Everything he said and did in that conversation was blatantly lying. Normally when people lie, there is a tell, something that shows their natural guilt. Jack didn't have any other than his eyes. They slightly dilated when I mentioned his message we interpreted. Now I investigate your life, agent Shepard. You have an extra three hundred thousand credits in your bank account that appeared while you were in the pacific. You have been showered with expensive gifts and disappeared from under our observation for extended periods of time, all related to Jack Harper. Let me stress that the only reason you are still alive is your work in investigating the Reds and for preventing the New Java attack."

"Thank you ma'am." She said, not sure where this would end. Jack had ruined her life and future, most likely. What was more likely was that he had staged this to appear as if they were working together. She hadn't known about the money. She hardly spent anything these days anyway. Money came in, and some day she would retire and enjoy it more.

"This isn't a compliment. You are under as much scrutiny as he is. Mr. Harper we can only hold onto for so long before his lawyer demands his release. I doubt that we will be able to get anything else useful from him in that time. Your superior has glowing words to say about you. In looking over your mission files, though, we saw some discrepancies. I want them sorted out."

Allison Hannah Shepard cursed inwardly. Her life was dependent on these people. "What discrepancies would you like sorted out?" Perhaps she had a better chance if she knew what Ross wanted.

"When you disappeared into his ship, we lost track of you for two days. Your next report came in as the _Talon_ re-entered the atmosphere over the pacific. Where did he take you?"

"Shanxi." Allison told her, already knowing that this day would be unpleasant enough. Jack had the freedom of lying and knowing he would only be held here for a day or two. Allison had the rest of her life ahead of her.

Ross hardened her face. Without the pigmentation in her skin she looked like she was almost angry. "That seems incriminating. How did he convince you to leave that out of the reports?"

"He was injured while we tried to extract his marine with gene mods. He had set up an explosive in the server room," she wasn't going to mention his weird statue theory he fed her. "Which caused him to be struck by some support beams. His back was sprained, taking six weeks to heal. That was why we were in the pacific. We managed to extract a doctor or specialist working in Tyrrel headquarters while we were there, however. Her name is Eva Core, but Jack managed to get her a new identity and hide her within the company known as ExoGeni. I haven't been able to trace her since. Multiple people in that company look like her and have been hired recently."

"So he covered his tracks on Shanxi. We will find this Eva. Don't worry about her. You have compromised this investigation enough already. That answers where the _Talon_ was. During your investigation that lead to the New Java operation, you lost your following operative in the airport in Marseilles. Hours later you showed up at your hotel."

"Jack had me meet him at a restaurant, under cover. We exchanged details and information that lead to my report on New Java. I had asked him to help in my investigation."

Ross looked livid. "That is the most damning thing I have heard today! Letting a civilian, especially one who benefits from prolonged contact with you, do your investigation for you? You must have given him access to our files somehow. Should I be investigating data leaks now?"

"He only asked for three sets of files. Data relating to the Prothean Archive attack, our data on the Reds, and his own dossier." She said, wishing she didn't look like she was completely in Jack's pocket right now. But the Dior dress and expensive purse said otherwise. "In exchange, he gave me the information on New Java."

"Jack Harper is trying to capitalize on a war between rebelling groups that exist in society and our military. He and the rest of these industrialist Progressives are looking to make the Alliance weak, dependent upon them and their work to function. His allies will not suffer for his disappearance. They'll capitalize on it. Their kind have no compassion for anything other than their own interests. So, while I have one of them in custody, I think I will be able to arrange a deal with him."

"He will get the better end of the deal." He just did, and it annoyed her greatly.

"I'm planning on it. You, on the other hand, are a disgrace. A useful disgrace, but a disgrace to our standards nonetheless. I'm going to take you off the active rosters. You want to just let Jack Harper do your job for you? Fine. He will be your only assignment. Until he dies or you fail even harder at your job, this will be your only concern."

Allison just sat in her chair. Dreams of promotions and moving up in the world evaporated. She was being turned into an asset. A permanent observer. Her entire future was gone. Jack Harper had stolen it, questioned her reputation, and ruined her. She wouldn't let herself fall apart here. There would be plenty of time for that later. She raised her chin and looked up at Ross. "Yes, ma'am. I understand."

"Good. Now, let's go talk to Harper. Leave your phone and any other evidence here." Allison Shepard dumped out her purse, letting her phone and a couple of ear pieces fall onto the desk. Observation equipment and a few pieces of wet tissue fell onto the desk. She considered the OSD that Jack had slipped her. It was in the pocket of her dress. She didn't take it out. Jack Harper was the only path the future might allow her to get her reputation back. To do that, he would need to trust her. She hated herself for doing this. But she hated the idea of being tossed aside when she knew she could help more. That made her hold back the OSD. Standing up and holding back a wave of emotion, she wished she had never met Jack Harper.

Jack wished he had never been so impulsive as to pick up Hannah. The chair in the interrogation room was uncomfortable. It kept his hands locked behind him, while the interrogator asked him questions. Jack didn't answer any further than he had answered Ross. He only had to wait thirty minutes before Ross came back. She came in with a box and a couple members of her security team.

"Did my lawyer call yet?" Jack asked. "Or am I getting threatened again?"

Ross gave him a smile. "You have been proven to have connections with the Reds, supplying them and arming their agents. Not only that, but you have interfered with an Alliance investigation, abducted an agent, and entered restricted space illegally. We suspected that your craft had been sighted near Shanxi, but now we can confirm it. So, I will be giving you two options." She held up her hand, as if to stop him from speaking. Right now he was inclined to agree. He had spent most of his previous life avoiding this, so perhaps this time he would entertain their less than logical ideas. "You can cooperate, and provide us with all of the information you doubtlessly held back, or I can kill you."

She popped open the case in front of her. It was a small sub machine gun, with a long muzzle and a short clip. "This is a fabrication that is illegal in every law system the Alliance has. A Kassa brand. The company only had the chance to make a single batch of these before we put them out of business. This is a Locust, as they call it. One of the attackers used one of these but was never caught. He left it behind, however, giving me a perfect alibi. This gun already killed both Assembly men, along with their bodyguards. Another body won't surprise the press." She slid the weapon's grip into place onto her wrist. "So, do I add a body to the roster or do I have an answer?" Her voice didn't shift at all during the conversation. She didn't shake or show any other signs of nervousness. So, there was a significant chance that she meant it.

"The people you are looking for take time to find. Time and resources I won't have in your custody."

"Is that a yes?"

"It would seem the only logical path, considering. The entire question is phrased in order to force me to accept your judgement."

She shot him, three shots tearing through the arm of his suit and going into his shoulder. Her face showed no change as she did so. Jack tried to keep the pain of this out of his voice, but the inferno rounds burned the inside of his skin. One was stuck inside his shoulder. He groaned, in a way that would normally be considered unacceptable. He had to wait to speak, the pain becoming a constant throb. Two of the shots had passed right through, hitting the chair or the wall. The last remained.

"Mr. Harper, your lawyer is coming to get you. I expect that you will remember this for quite some time. So, this is how our arrangement will follow. You are restricted from handling any form of console or technology that allows access to secure systems. You will be provided an agent to do that for you, and to handle all forms of communication you will use. They will report to us your progress in hunting down the other members of your little group, who will also become puppets. I don't care about your business or political affiliations. I only care about the threats to the Alliance, especially your friends who dared think they would get away with this." She had packed away the Locust while she said this, and Jack had to focus on her voice. The pain was intense. "Now, you are going to be discharged to a hospital of your choice. Our agent will be attached to you on a permanent basis and she will report all of your activities. If you attempt to lose her, you will be killed, and posthumously convicted of the crimes specified. Do you understand?" He gave a short nod, not trusting his voice to betray his weakness.

Pain was weakness. Or at least to admit it or use it as a crutch to get what you wanted. Pity was a tool used by the desperate. Once used, it was forever an option easily turned to. Jack didn't use pity in either of his lives. He had a moment to consider as she picked up the gun case. If they were assigning him a permanent agent, he would need to plan everything around her. His impulsiveness had cost him the mobility that he needed to keep ahead of his competition. He might have to go ahead and go paramilitary this time around as well.

"Patch him up and get a shuttle to take him somewhere. I don't want to see him again until someone has a funeral." Ross said. She left the room as one of the men started bandaging his arm and shoulder. It might have been Jarvis, but it was hard to tell. His eyes wouldn't focus. He tried to make it easier for them, but it was hard to move. Some painkillers hit his system, and he didn't even notice the medicine going in. Without the pain to keep him conscious, he blacked out.

When he awoke, it was to the face of Henry Lawson, wearing medical scrubs and digging into his shoulder. He groaned, and tried to stay still. He was on an operating table somewhere. His lawyer had records and plans in place to send Jack to the nearest hospital owned by Henry Lawson in the event of him being too injured to direct otherwise. So that explained that. He felt groggy.

"Don't move, old chap, this is not something lightly fixed. The shot got lodged in your shoulder blade, and burned itself out right there. Just sit tight while I get rid of it."

Henry spoke all of this as he brought over a large metal device. He flipped it on, and Jack felt something tear out of his shoulder to clink into the device. Probably some form of magnet.

His reply was to gasp in pain as the shot came back out of him.

"Ah, a bit of bleeding but most of the internal tissue is burnt. You are going to be just fine. We have just the thing to deal with this, Jack. Just sit still so I can get the artificial tissue in place." Henry said, poking around inside the wound. He was thankful that his friend was such a good doctor, and willing to do the right treatments, even if some or most of his technology was experimental or in the testing phases.

Looking past his friend, he saw a few people watching the operation. The person nearest to the window was surprisingly his lawyer, who was observing and talking on his phone with a bit of emotion on his face. He must be trying to get some sort of suit on someone to stick. His lawyer was one of the best. He had to be, with hundreds of suits brought against Jack every year. Jack filed back just as many, usually. At the business level he was at, this was fairly normal. Considering how many companies he owned and supported, this only compounded everything.

Behind him was an intern of some kind or other. He had an entire console with him, and was bringing up information for his lawyer as needed. To the right were two women. One was the newly married Mrs. Lawson, who looked like she was still wearing her dress from the wedding day. Henry must have just felt it his responsibility to take care of all of the wounded from the party. Next to her, wearing her wrinkled Dior, was Hannah. Jack wasn't sure what to think of that.

She had a neutral look on her face, and was in some sort of conversation with Mrs. Lawson. Both women were paying more attention to the operation. Jack had his attention directed back to the operating table quite forcefully, as he felt Henry taking hold of his injured shoulder blade. His groan, he wouldn't call it a scream, got his attention.

"Yes, yes, terrible bedside manner. I should probably sedate you while I reset the bones and put synthetic muscle in there."

Jack groaned back at him in response.

His lawyer came up to the glass and held up his electronic tablet. His eyes were only seeing a blur but it looked suspiciously like 'Malpractice?' He mustered the strength to shake his head. Henry just had a poorly timed sense of humor. It was why he was more into research than actually practicing medicine. His social graces were extremely limited, but for his best man he probably felt responsible for fixing him.

He saw something enter the IV. "You have some resistance to my better medications. So you'll have a double dose. Don't worry, I'll have you put back together before you know it. Just take a short nap while I place some pins."

Jack obliged him. That was perhaps the nicest way that he had been asked anything by Henry.

When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed with every modern convenience that Henry could get his hands on. He was wearing some unflattering hospital suit, and his arm was locked into some sort of ceramic setting that kept his shoulder in place. His right arm couldn't move enough even to type. That would be a major setback. His arm no longer held an Omni-tool, but it did have a small monitor on that hand.

Looking around, he could see a few flowers on the nightstand, courtesy of Senator Dierdre Scott. Her card had some form of get well soon message written on it. He couldn't grab it, but it was probably just out of courtesy. The card next to it was attached to a small bottle of wine, from Donovan Hock. Very curious. He absolutely had an ulterior motive. Jack knew what might happen to him in the future. If he was still that person, then Hock was a sociopath. He saw other people as tools. Or would see. He already seemed quite close to those tendencies already.

Turning his head the other direction, he saw Hannah Shepard, asleep in a chair and holding some sort of box of chocolates. She was dozing lightly, and was wearing a flannel shirt (his) and some sort of pants. Her continued presence made him consider a few possibilities. She could be an observer of some sort, temporary or permanent, assigned by Ross to make sure he didn't escape to some unknown part of Alliance space. He had a theory about that, but it was a desperate one. If he was directly threatened too much, he could always take a ship and colonize Eden Prime early. Or skip it entirely and make contact for humanity at the citadel. Both options changed the game too much.

Hannah might just be here to interrogate him further. That possibility meant that he was still under close surveillance. That would inhibit him further. The _Talon_ needed to be purged of any bugs or tracking devices that the Alliance or other groups may have placed on her. He also needed to purge his houses. He maintained a penthouse in New York, as well as an estate in the old wine valleys of California, and his house in the northern part of Catalonia, Spain. He had apartments in his name elsewhere, but only maintained them for the use of his employees as they needed them. Perhaps he should just drop all of those. If he did, the California estate might have to go as well. He never really used it. Not after his artificial island was done.

Looking back at her, he noticed that she looked a bit rumpled still. She hadn't taken the time to clean up or shower for some reason. That created a new possibility, one of desperation. Alliance Intelligence frowned on agents failing in their duties. The fact that they confirmed he was at Shanxi meant that Hannah had told them. How much she had mentioned remained to be seen but that also had to be taken into account when planning in the future. She had more loyalty to the Alliance than she ever would for him, that was for sure.

Sighing, he considered his options while he had the peace and quiet to do so. If Hannah was the agent that would be assigned to him, she would be under just as much scrutiny as he was. Her reports would be torn apart looking for any signs of omission. Still, he could not afford to just give up his intention of saving the Alliance and preparing them for fighting the Reapers. He would just need to take some desperate measures to get rid of the Intelligence attachment. Hannah slumped slightly, obviously sleeping lightly. He decided that it was time to figure out what was going on.

"Shepard." Her head jerked up, her training taking over as she shot up, evaluating the room for threats. The box of chocolates was slid off of a pistol, which was leveled on the doorway. Very curious. He must be under painkillers to not have any rise in adrenaline or heightened response to the gun coming out. "Did you eat all of my chocolates?" All of the other gifts and cards in the room were for him, so this was a safe assumption.

Her eyes checked over the window, and then once satisfied the room was safe she slid the pistol back into the box. "They're in the drawer." She said quietly, worry apparent on her face.

"Good. Real food would be appreciated. I'm slightly allergic to certain nuts."

"Henry sent them to you. They're all the same flavor." She seemed afraid of something. Perhaps it was him. More likely it was her superiors. He gave her a moment to dig out the chocolate, and place it in his functioning left hand.

"Are you the agent that they have assigned to handle me?" With his painkillers and arm in a sling, it was probably her superiors she was afraid of.

"Yes. Until something changes or I die." Ah. That helped narrow it down. Her superiors were a little mad that she withheld information. Denying her mobility or a promotion was insulting.

"Convenient. So you are the one who I have to pass off as my secretary for a while. That is going to take some effort." Especially if she was going to report his movements. "Where is my Omni-tool?"

She held it up, and he noticed that it was lacking its memory core. Intelligence must have taken it. It would take them a long time to break through his encryption key, but they would only find his business message history. His real damning evidence was on the OSD he gave her. It had a few of his bank account information statements that they could trace back to the Reds. Hannah curiously held up the OSD as well, and put them on the table.

"I kept it for you, and cleaned it."

"Is that a copy of my OSD?" He asked. It had to be, if Hannah was willing to collaborate with them and reveal his presence on Shanxi. They had taken all of his other data sources, and he had left his pistol under the seat of the aircar bench. James was carrying his phone, which coincidentally had an extra SD drive slot, but Jack didnt have the chance to get the OSD into it before James was sent away. He was as innocent as they came, so it didn't matter if they questioned him or not. He might mention that Jack liked to go to Venus to stare at the planet sometimes, or that he liked taking the Talon out whenever he had the chance. Or he might mention Shanxi if they really pressured him. He had never tested his real resolve under pressure. He could trust him, as the man was quite loyal. The most he had done with his massive income so far had been a few extranet purchases. Hopefully he would be the kind of person that didn't take bribes. That would get very expensive for his competition.

"No." She said. He didn't quite believe her. Ross had known too much for that to be the case. "I kept it."

"I doubt that. But there is an easy way to test it. On most OSD's the manufacturer places a small sticker on the disc that marks it as their product. Is it still present on the disc?" Hannah leaned over, taking a closer look at it and nodding. "Look for a small bulge on one side, almost as if it had been rubbed slightly from being moved or displaced. That bulge should be on top of a raised section of the disc, barely noticeable." It took a moment to confirm this, but her fingers were sensitive enough to find the tiny raised nub under the sticker.

"Is this normal to find on this brand?" She asked curiously.

"Not likely. I placed a listening device on the OSD to record myself and any meetings i attend. For privacy and legal matters, of course. But I doubt that it would have been found without an Omni-tool specialist carefully going over the OSD. For our concerns at this moment, we have proof and evidence that I was interrogated by Alliance personnel, and entered their location uninjured. But you were in possession of it for a short time as well. Is there any information that would be considered a war crime to share? Or is this something I can use when I press legal charges?"

Hannah wasn't surprised at this. She had met his lawyer, obviously. HIs overpaid and overworked lawyer with a voracious appetite for new cases. He worked some indecent amount of hours every week launching and defending lawsuits. Jack hated him personally, but paid him enough that it didn't matter what he felt. He could afford to do anything he wanted, when he finally got time off during the christmas season. "I had a meeting with Ross and a debriefing. It, uh, might not be something you want heard in a court room. Or anywhere that you want evidence that can convict you."

"Damn." He stated. "I guess I'll just have to go with scandal and a quiet retirement for Ross. It will take a while to get that to happen. Then we can work on getting you back into the good graces of the Office of Alliance Intelligence."

She looked annoyed at his comment. "Don't you get it? I am not going to get positive attention again. My career is dead. Everything I have done is going to be looked at with the deepest of scrutiny. If it ever gets reported, I will be discredited unless a superior sponsors my information and makes it their own. Even then, you are too important," She spat that word, "of an asset to go without an agent to watch over you. So I will be stuck here while everything you do is going to be monitored and evaluated for a possible threat."

"Yet you kept the OSD. Why keep that when your career was on the line?"

Hannah gave him a hard look. "Because I hope to God you know what you are doing. If I am going to have to be stuck to you for the near future-"

"Extended, please."

"Yes, _extended_ future, I decided it was of greater worth to show you I cared. Plus, in going over the disc its contents were rather benign." She said, her emotions causing her to shake a bit. "So I kept it. I told Ross about Shanxi. I did not mention some of the other things you have done."

"My name has been muddled enough. What hasn't already been mentioned is only going to be suspected. Anything I do is going to be viewed with complete disdain, even if it is the best intel that they will receive. And I will provide them intelligence still, as the Alliance is the best option we have." Hannah had gone out of her way to try to save something of his, which actually might give him a powerful set of evidence if he ever wanted to present a case of military negligence to Ross. "Since you have been somewhat trusting of me, I feel that I can offer you something. If you want to get back out into the field as a trusted Alliance agent, I can do that for you. But it will take time and a great measure of sacrifice."

"What, more financial favors? Or is it a house this time?" Hannah scoffed.

"No, I was considering something that would make you the Alliance's most feared asset to date. All it would take is an experimental process that hasn't been tested due to humanitarian concerns."

"Your gene modifications?"

"It is a project that was covered by the gene modification hardware, but one that we are more careful about mentioning. Henry, whom you've met, has developed a method of implanting a new skin layer into a subject, gives the subject certain abilities. These dermal implants that Henry has engineered can remove your scent and if you dont have an allergic reaction to the process, we might be able to give you the ability to cloak."

"Like turn invisible?" She asked carefully.

"Exactly. You would be invisible to human sight and smell for a short amount of time. Devices might still be able to sense you, but you should be invisible to most forms of detection."

"What does that take?"

"A possibly deadly process where Henry places dermal implants under your skin, and you become Humanity's most dangerous asset. They would have to take you back into the ranks, and you would be given the tasks that they would consider too dangerous or too difficult to accomplish."

"Why would you do this for me? Wouldn't you just be better off without more scrutiny?"

"Economically, yes. Probably happier in general. But I hate the idea of denying Humanity an asset of your caliber. This is also one of the things I will be trying to offer with my foundation. We need new technology and new soldiers to combat the threats that the rest of our race is creating. Neither of us can truly stop them until we can get you to become an asset again. My plan to simply funnel you information and give you analysis of what the Reds are doing so that you could rise to become head of a department, or the department in charge of dealing with them, backfired. Ross got too suspicious and the Shanxi situation boiled out of control. I became too impulsive, and made decisions that did not benefit you or your position. For that, I apologize."

She grunted something. But she met his look. "But you aren't apologizing for why you did it, I am sure."

Jack gave her a winning smile, thankful that the splint on his shoulder and arm did not prohibit that. "Of course. Mission accomplished, we weakened the Red's ability to hide and found evidence of their actions. Greg Smith is no longer viable for what I needed him for, but we managed to get in and find out what we needed to do." Greg Smith might still have some frozen remains in the colony of Shanxi, but Jack had no kinds of resources that could access that at the moment. Hannah had been the best bet, but he overextended her when she pulled the data files. That probably created a flag in their system when she did that, or she may have been less than perfectly stealthy when she moved them.

Either way, at the moment they were under scrutiny, Jack was recovering from being shot, and Hannah was close to accepting anything he told her. With a grain of mistrust, as anyone should have when speaking. The only people who were genuinely honest were the people who didn't have secrets to keep. He leaned back in the bed, glaring at his injured and securely held right hand. "I wish I had a cigarette right now."

"Henry said he kept some here for you, but you might want to take it easy. Most of your shoulder is new."

"I will have to create an identity for you. My secretaries are always something of an odd bunch. The best in the business, as you might guess. You have until my arm can type again to pick up what you need. I have tutors and other resources on call if you need them. Also, as I am not allowed to wear it or communicate, you will use my Omni-tool for the time being. I'll need your arm for everything, since Ross took mine out of commission. At least until you go through the surgery to give you dermal implants."

"What if I don't think I want to?"

"We both know that you don't want to become marginalized. Or if they decide to replace you suddenly, you will quietly disappear until no one remembers who you were. You are a compromised agent, which makes you dangerous to keep around. Ross probably considered shooting you along with me. That is, if this wasn't some attempt to remove my ability to work for a while."

"Fine. So I get the implants. What then?"

"Then the gene mods, for thermal enhanced vision and faster reflexes. Those have tested well and safely. Once we are finished, you will be one of the most dangerous members the Alliance can call on. They will have no choice but to promote you to a field agent again, and will request I do the same for others from your department. At the cool cost of my surveillance disappearing from my life."

Hannah smiled a little bit. "Sometimes, I am glad you are such a paranoid bastard. Got any other backup plans?"

"Hoping that Henry has something that can fix my arm faster. Other than that, any plan I make will depend on the fallout from whoever claims responsibility for the attack on Henry's wedding. I owe them some trouble."

Hannah turned on the news feeds and Omni-tool without even being prompted. Jack just grinned. "What was that about a new identity?"

"Don't worry about it. Your previous one has too many holes to exploit or investigate. I simply am going to be building you one that will stand up to the kind of scrutiny that I receive on a weekly basis. Oh, and I am calling you Hannah."

"Like Hell!"

Author's Note

Things are getting more interesting by the minute. I decided that since my beta is being a bit slow on catching up, I would post the next chapter. I am still ahead by a large margin, so posting twice a week might be more feasible. As time goes on we will be seeing more trouble from different sources.

Compared to most stories you will be reading in Mass Effect, this one will have a 'limited' perspective. Jack doesn't know about everything that's happening, and as more characters are introduced, the story will expand. More will be seen of the way the galaxy is changing and working. But so far it's sort of exciting to write all of this.

Egotistical Bastard-Vision is copyrighted by someone that isn't Jack Harper, but he would probably buy the rights from them. It might just be worth it. Let me know if you guys think I should add something or someone to the perspective tree. I don't care how minor the character sounds in the outset.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

2151, Port Hudson, North American States,

The Hudson River was an impressive sight, at one time. Now it was mostly a controlled trickle. Flooding was considered too dangerous for the crops, and the source of fresh water was too important to the arcologies that existed and housed the greatest amount of people. So the once great and mighty Hudson River was now just a trickle. Seafaring boats had to go to other ports to be launched. But people who owned those were mostly sportsman or fisherman. Even though the regulations were very thick on them, the industry still held on.

The area was also well developed and had a strong energy grid to handle experimental technology. So it was a perfect place for Henry's newest firm buyout. Jack had bought him a new firm on the old waterfront of the Hudson, in between the historical government district and the new slums that had taken up residence where the river had retreated. So, it was a nice place to hide something that was technically illegal.

"Hannah, have you finalized the schedule?" He asked, watching the employees of the firm taking the last of their things from the building. They were on their way to Australia, to work in Henry's larger conglomerate company, and were generally looking at a much better paycheck. But their work would be extremely valuable. Some members of the company were relocating and refusing to join the Lawson funding, instead making their own company, Sirta. Jack was very interested in them, but since he was directly responsible for their relocation he doubted that they would do any further business with him.

Sirta Foundation would be directly responsible for creating medi-gel. The miracle liquid agent that could fix most small wounds was critical to humanity's advancement into the galactic sphere. Jack would guarantee that they received the funding and capital to get there, or else he would be in serious trouble. They needed that to be able to avoid getting sucked under the galactic economy, or be taken over by outside investors. The Asari had hundreds of years to accrue wealth, and they used it like a cudgel when new races joined the Council. Volus investors, Asari magnates, and surprisingly Elcor capital firms invested heavily in humanity when they reached the galactic economy. The Hanar and Turians didn't necessarily care about them economically, for different reasons.

Most of the reason that they survived was because Synthetic Insights, Sirta, and Ashland-Hislopp had made such a good showing of Human ingenuity and economic power. He needed to make sure that they were strong enough to be that power when the Turians were forced into a truce.

Hannah had changed a lot over the past 15 months. Her confidence and sharp wit had come back full force, and as they prepared for the surgery that would be happening today, she had gone through all of the preparatory diet and IV therapy. Her body had to be ready to lose large pieces of skin and have a couple of ribs get lined with static collection panels. So the invasive procedure would be done while she was unconscious. Then she was looking at five weeks of recovery, all planned out and settled with his company.

He planned on taking a vacation to his island again, while Hannah got her skin back up to speed. Of course, that was as long as there weren't any complications. There were significant risks involved with this. She might not take the implants, and then her skin would be scarred horrifically. The gene mods just took time to used to, and the effort of printing out the DNA structures to be bonded. So Hannah would be in traction anyways. She had started out her stint as his secretary rather timidly, unsure of who was supposed to be able to see him and who was not.

"You are perfectly clear. Some messages and fires have cropped up, but it is nothing that Reid and the others can't handle." She remarked, the version 2 Omni-tool in her hands chirping merrily as she typed. She had become a force of nature now, someone that wielded as much power as Jack himself. He had taken a more background position, letting her deal with some of the day to day running of his company while he engaged himself in a new investigation. Before the Reds had struck on Shanxi, the number of people that he thought could start a revolution had numbered in the range of maybe twenty people.

But with every step he took in investigation, it appeared that those people he originally suspected were all of the type that preferred profit over progress. He was surprised to learn that it was not a singular entity that was involved, but more of a small group of powerful individuals pooling their wealth. From what he could guess, their wealth didn't even have to be in the major threat range. That expanded the list out to the thousands range. At least those he could investigate. Secret bank accounts and front companies were not his weapon alone to use. It was just hard to dig through all of the information or chase down the wrong path too many times, before you got too much attention and they began to look for you.

"Good. With everyone out of the way this shouldn't take long." Hannah had been on supplements for a while, to be prepared. It was understandable that she would be irritable and nearly ready to kill anything that got in her way. As far as he knew she hadn't killed anyone since Shanxi. She had been busy, keeping up with his schedule. "Henry should already be in there, with everything he needs." He watched as Hannah locked the front doors and placed the key into her purse. Due to the ever adapting mass effect technology, she happened to have a Hammer mk. 2 shotgun in the purse. It's ability to fold up so small made it very handy. She hadn't needed to fire it yet, as Jack had become deeply paranoid of attacks against his person.

"Let's go do this. I am tired of being stabbed by needles."

"The anesthetic will be from a facemask, yes. When you wake up things will be much different." Jack said, walking slowly towards the room Henry had prepared. Henry had restored the operating theatre in the building, and due to the security room being disconnected the only recording devices that they would have were the ones they brought. Jack would record this, since he didn't remember enough about the first gene mods and implants that were this complete. He did remember how much of a controversy was started from it all, but hopefully this time he would not be identified as having created the first improved human. He would have enough controversy in his future, and that was unavoidable.

Coming into the chamber, Henry had two nurses and himself prepared, along with as advanced a medical suite as he could smuggle in here during the move. That turned out to be quite the device. He was his usual cordial self, but was smoking a cigar at the operating table.

"You both look chipper." He muttered. He still didn't like the idea of giving an Alliance Intelligence agent the most powerful implants he had come up with. But Jack made a convincing argument.

"We are doing fine, yes." Hannah had taken off her coat and stepped behind a medical curtain.

"About time, yes!" Hannah said loudly from behind the curtain. "Let's be done with it all! This _is_ going to work, and nothing more needs to be said." She came out from the curtain, wearing an operating robe and looking impatient. Jack just settled for a seat in the operating theatre, and got ready for a long wait. He could type up some financial requests and litigation reviews while he waited. She hopped up on the table with enthusiasm, and just glared at the nurse holding the facemask. "Gods, yes, please."

She went under quickly, the nurse giving her an extra dose. A small nicety. Jack had an unfortunate habit of waking up during invasive surgeries himself. It was something that he considered the mark of a nicer doctor. Henry was a terrible doctor in that regard. He was a perfectionist, which did not require any form of social niceties. But his hands were always perfectly stable, and he was one of the best in the business for his methods and training. Henry would accept no less for himself.

Henry got quiet, immediately setting into his appointed task of operating on Hannah. "Henry, while you are in there I would appreciate it if you could do one more thing for me."

Henry didn't quite turn his head away from Hannah's arm, where he was setting in the IV. "Jack, we have been discussing this surgery for months. You don't surprise the doctor on the day of the surgery with a new demand." He was less than thrilled to hear Jack say anything like this.

"Hannah is incapable of having children. Her cervix was damaged by a bullet wound a while back. I would like you to pull out a few hundred of her eggs for my next big project."

Henry turned and glared at him. "Jack, we did not secure her opinion. As a doctor, I must have her acceptance before I do anything other than what I agreed to. I will not go through with this!" Hippocratic Oath. Jack never thought he would see the day that Henry actually followed it.

He gave Henry an equal glare in return. "A few years ago, you undertook a project that combined the DNA of yourself, and a host of different women that you envisioned as perfect. These were all combined together to create a child, biotic, brilliant, and beautiful, to perhaps be a possible heir or inheritor for your empire."

Henry went pale. "That project wasn't ever recorded! How the hell did you find out about it?!"

Jack kept his strict glare. "With great effort." Mostly cheating, considering that he was using his memories and description that Miranda Lawson had shown him of her father and his projects. "Either way, I require the same project for my own purposes."

Henry just started sputtering. His nurses didn't even say anything, not wanting to raise attention on themselves. "Jack!" He came over to the glass, so that they were staring face to face. "There is no way that I would help you create an artificial human."

"I need a daughter, Henry. Two of them. And I need them to be very special, and the people who were supposed to breed them went and got shot. So I started looking for the next best thing. Cloning was too faulty, but with every piece I looked for I found your hand in it. A few small acquisitions in the same field that I was investigating made me suspicious. So, you are the only one in the business."

"You're too late then." Henry told him. He wasn't grinning. "My project failed. I couldn't get the gene sequences to bond correctly. I won't help you with this madness, Jack. Whatever scheme you have cooked up in that mind of yours is not worth it."

Jack felt like someone had punched him in the gut. Henry was the best there was in the business. There was no other person good enough to do what Jack needed. If he couldn't get Hannah Shepard to breed with Greg Smith, then he would just have to _create_ the hero of Humanity himself. No matter the cost, Julia Shepard had to be born, had to lead them to a victory over the Reapers. She was _critical_. "Did you have an assistant? Anyone who helped you?"

Henry slammed a fist on the glass. "Don't you get it Jack? It didn't work! I don't care what Constantine told you, my project will never work!" His face was getting red, his anger rising. But that name, Constantine, that made Jack curious. He must have had help, of some form.

"Henry, I still want them. She won't be able to physically have children until the Alliance passes laws that allow you to clone sexual organs." By that time, they would have to conform to Council Law regarding that, and there was no way that Julia would reach adulthood by the time that the Reapers would be arriving. "Do this for her sake, if not mine."

"Jack, I swear, if you ask me for anything else, I will refuse, even if it stands to benefit me." He said, glaring at him. "Nurse! Let's get started."

Henry understood obsession. He understood necessity. He could see it in Jack's eyes, he was sure. So, while Henry performed a four hour surgery, Jack linked into the comm systems using Hannah's username, and started looking for Constantine. He or she could be an alias, a codename, or even a first name. But it was a rare name. He found only one Constantine that was of any importance. Or at least to him.

Quincy Constantine was a medical researcher, specializing in collecting genetic tissue. He had no physical or economic connections to Henry Lawson that Jack could see, meaning that Henry must have worked very hard to keep any connection secret. Quincy had a wife that had passed away, suspected suicide, and a daughter who had passed away some time before then. Cause of death for the daugher was not listed.

But her name was Grace Constantine. He recalled perfectly the report on the attack on the Prothean Archive, that one of the technicians had refused to leave her post and was shot for it. Her name was kept from the public record but it was also Grace Constantine. He would need to return to the _Talon_ to verify if the data matched, but it was suspicious enough to be considered. The dates of death were different by a few weeks, but that was not a problem. The physical descriptions didn't match.

Dr. Quincy Constantine lived in Norfolk, Virginia, and worked at a small research firm that was owned by a larger conglomerate. Jack smirked. He did not have secure systems, but some of his devices listed were not connected to the extranet. They would require someone to be physically at the location to access. It was child's play to measure the amount of power being used by his house and see how many machines and storage servers he had running. His house had nearly blown out the fuses a few times in the past, the city records noted.

Suspicious but not outside of the normal actions of those nearby. Others on his city block had done the same, so it could be considered normal for the area. But Jack planned on finding out. He knew that his Omni-tool was still not being observed, as Hannah didn't send reports about this one. She had one that she sent reports about, but kept this one for when he wanted to investigate the Reds or other such groups. First, he sent a message to a private investigator to look into Quincy's affairs. Then he lhired a professional hacker to bring him all of the files on the computers not networked. That would be accomplished easily enough when he was at work. He didn't want to wait, paying for a rush job. James would have to do a drop off with some credit chits, so he gave him the excuse of going out to buy some takeout for everyone. James was very reliable, and a random drop off of credits at a strange location was not the weirdest thing he had been required to do.

That would probably be the time where Jack had asked James to go pick up one of the erstwhile partners of his without Hannah noticing. That had been a very carefully planned event, as Hannah had still avoided his bed. So, as he had his own habits and necessities, he had slipped different partners past her and into his bed. All the while telling them that she was normally the one who shared it. So, he dealt with his needs while maintaining his public persona. Hannah was simply not a good enough actor to maintain that facade without rumors to help. So he made sure to propagate them.

James sent a reply within fifteen minutes that he had delivered the credits and heard back on when the information would be in his hands. The agent was going to send it soon, as they were able to get the information he wanted very easily. Apparently Constantine was not a very good electronic security specialist.

Jack only had to observe as Hannah received the static electricity storage batteries along her ribs. These would collect the buildup of static electricity, which she now would generate quite a bit of. From that she would be able to power the initial jump of energy required to engage the cloaking system. It, due to the static involvement, would also extend the cloak to her clothes. Armors that could be able to do this would develop on their own. Hopefully through the efforts of his Cerberus Foundation.

Her cloaking system could plug into other sources of power as well, for greater supplies of power and a much faster recharge. With just static it would be almost a half-hour between uses. The cloak might last twenty seconds. Bumping into any objects or people would destabilize the energy, turning off the system. But this was _new_ for the Alliance. Later this would be seen as an archaic system to use, possibly inhumane. But right now, if it worked, the Alliance would have no choice but to put her to good use. With a battery from an armor's shield generator, Hannah could stay cloaked for almost ten minutes. After that the battery would burn out, needing its own recharge.

Henry had to be promised much for this all to occur. Firstly, Jack had to buyout this company and research firm. Secondly, Jack had to invest yet more money into lobbyists that could push for the laws that would make this process and other questionable things Henry was developing legal and publicly acceptable. All of this work to save humanity was killing his wallet. But any losses he accrued with this was offset by a knowledge of the future. He was much more wealthy than in his memories. Most of what he earned or received from investments was in turn invested back into the companies and infrastructure that would set humanity apart as a major economic powerhouse.

He smirked. The other races wouldn't know what hit them. They would only want the products that they produced, and some races would only see them as another source of income, selling their own products to the new race. Some of those Jack looked forward to, like the weapons technology. Computing technology, due to long indoctrination by the Reapers, was actually better in human controlled space. They were close to making their own AI technology, and Jack had a mixed opinion about using that. It was a strategic unknown, exposing another possible weakness that the Reapers could exploit.

Other technologies Jack was looking at all had the same problem. Ever since the discovery of the Prothean Archive, all technology and development had gone the route that cost the least amount of money. The Archive held already completed and detailed technologies to reverse engineer, and made any other course of research too costly. Henry was one of the few who was making something different. Most firms were investing themselves into the damned technology that the rest of the galaxy.

The only other notable firm researching new technology was Markov Heavy Industries. They were making the heavy weapons platforms that would define the Alliance military machine. The other races had stopped developing land based heavy weapons, preferring the space based platforms and weaponry. The Asari only cared about biotic power and small commando teams. Their population was too wide spread and peaceful to become a great military power. Their individual soldiers were perhaps the best, but the lack of support materials and dependency on weapons produced by the other races made them weak.

The Salarians avoided open conflict as much as possible. They couldn't support any kind of extended military action. But their special forces were notably skilled and very well informed of anything going on in Council space. Much of the actions of the Alliance were focused on keeping an eye on their assets so that the STG couldn't take them. Jack had proven in his memories that some of the Salarians had tried to steal any technology that they had developed and steal any other assets. Cerberus spent a lot of time and effort keeping human technology safe from them.

The minor races rarely fielded more than a few specialized support teams. Volus engineers, support craft, and a few biotics. The Elcor were great at heavy support craft and terraforming. Their technology had to be rated for extreme gravity pressure, after all. The Drell were not contributors of any sort, and didn't have the population to be. Their skill sets were their racial photographic memory and few biotics and specialized combatants. The Hanar were generally useless, outside of aquatic and air purification technology. They had a lack of mobility and could not understand the military mindset.

The Batarians were probably going to end up indoctrinated again. They had found the corpse of a Reaper last time, and had left the Citadel soon after. The Leviathan of Dis, if he remembered correctly. But they had ground troops and a solid fleet. Competition with the other races had made them strong, and as much as Jack hated the idea, they would make good allies. Strong and capable allies. He didn't like that line of thought.

The Turians were going to be prickly. They had good space and ground technology, but rarely developed it further. They cared more for maintaining their power and the Council's territory. They took a lot of casualties from that. What wasn't often published was the number of pirates that had their origin in the Turian people. They knew where the patrols were and used their military knowledge very effectively. Much of their problems came from a military doctrine that didn't allow change and hadn't changed in a thousand years.

They would need the Krogan. Jack planned on hiring a few to train the Alliance military on the new weapons and technology that would come rushing in. They had proven themselves in the last fight against the Reapers, and they had some hidden treasures of a culture. With a few careful investments, Jack felt like he could change their outlook on things. Their homeworld would be an excellent place to test Humanity's heavy weapons. Thresher maws would be perfect for testing some of the weapons they wanted to use.

A few other races had made a small name for themselves, like the Rachni and Vorcha. The quarians had become valued, but their ships and combat teams were old, and their doctrine was based around fighting the Geth. Only the Geth. So any non synthetic enemy had given them trouble. If they settled down too early, they would only become a liability to the Reaper invasion rather than a resource. Shepard had saved their race and given back their home world to them. With no help from their Council allies, of course.

The Geth were a scary enemy to consider. Jack didn't have an answer to them. He had tried to come up with one, through Dr. David Archer, but that had failed. Human ingenuity might not have a good option to fighting the Geth, as sad as that might sound.

He had used an approach that avoided moral reason and legality, and it had resulted in complete failure. This time around he might just hire quarians and quietly funnel them ship parts and technology to use. He might just have to depend on the method Shepard had used. Whatever the method may have been, as he never quite found out. Previously he had written off the quarians as not enough of power to be worthy of investment. Whatever Shepard did brought out the race in its entirety. Engineers and researchers were of high value, but then the disaster that was the Crucible project happened. All of that potential was wasted. This time he didn't know how he would use the quarians, but they wouldn't be forgotten.

He sighed. He just missed Hannah being turned over for the installation of the dermal implants in her shoulders. So he had just missed a good look at the scars that covered her left hip and stomach. He had been curious, and hadn't gotten a good look at them yet. Not just for his own curiosity, but for the sake of his rumors. He needed to have intimate knowledge of her in order to maintain a careful illusion. Not to say that he felt a thrill whenever he managed to slip a woman past her, but he needed to keep up with it all. Her back lacked the scarring that he had been expecting to find. Only a bit of skin discoloration along her neck existed, which was apparently a birth mark.

When Jack Harper glanced back up, he could see James coming into the operating theatre with a bag of take out food. It was a well known fact that Jack Harper had a weakness for Hispanic food, as calling it the old adage of 'Mexican' food was now considered racially incorrect. So, it was a good cover for James to go and take care of things, sending him after his favorite food craving. He opened up the bag, finding that it held the expected Super Grande Burrito, with a side of some sort. Underneath the tinfoil was a slightly larger bulge. That, he reasoned, was the dropoff. Quick work for someone who had to get on site and off rather quickly.

He gently took apart the burrito and consumed it. Though while he did so he kept his eyes off of the operation. It would not do to make that association between his food and the work being done on Hannah. Henry could eat his way through any dinner topic except for music. He was highly sensitive to it. Opera moved him to tears, and modern music moved him to bouts of angry yelling. He had never asked him, but rumor was that Henry had spent 23 hours on one operation once, and supposedly ate and drank while suturing the patient's wounds closed. He didn't believe that but would be very surprised if he did, as Henry was a bit of a perfectionist about his work.

The data pad that had been slid inside the aluminum foil was small, and Jack didn't bother hooking it up to his Omni-tool. It had only a couple of data files on it. Two were data files pertaining to what was on the non-networked machines, and one was a picture. The data files he opened first, curious. They detailed a human medical care suite, apparently taking care of a small child. They must have been very weak or disabled to require this level of care, as Jack didn't expect to find equipment like this outside of an ICU or specially prepared location. Lastly, he opened the picture.

He leaned forward immediately, trying to confirm what he was seeing. As fast as his fingers could, he connected the Omni-tool to the data pad. The picture file took so long to download. Poor first generation technology. The data files he set to download after the picture, which he then set to the display function. One nice thing about Omni-tools developed by humans was their desire to use visual displays for everything. Flash screens were all over the Arcologies in New York and Los Angeles, screaming out their wares. When humanity developed their version, they made it able to display pictures and presentational material onto glass and other reflective materials.

Reflective materials like the glass of the operating theatre. He set the Omni-tool to maximum length for the display function. This was still meagre and small compared to the tools that would come out later. So the four foot wide picture displayed onto the glass, and was mostly visible as to its details. The interior of the glass lit up, causing Henry to glance up from where he was digging into Hannah's arm.

"Jack, I am a bit busy for more of your demands right now." He muttered as he brought back the machine that created suction on the skin, allowing him to stitch it back together without damaging the material underneath. Very new technology, very useful for doctors trying not to damage the skin or sensitive organs underneath it while they stitched up a wound.

"I just found out why Constantine sabotaged your attempt, Henry. I would think you might be interested." Henry almost dropped his tool, giving Jack a hard glance. He did keep to his professionalism, finishing the arm bandaging and wrapping before coming over to the glass. The picture that had been on the datapad had been one of a small tube, with a child of less than a year old inside, being taken care of by the highly expensive medical suite. "He must have had his own reasons for ruining your own experiments."

"T-that…" Henry was red in the face. "Jack, I don't know how you…" He wasn't even finishing coherent thoughts at this stage. He must have been holding this for years. Jack hadn't been sure how early Miranda Lawson had been developed by Henry in his memories, but here in the memoryscape she would have already been born.

"Henry. We will get him. I think the most effective form of revenge is to take away what he has worked so hard to gain, don't you think? Perhaps he might even have all of the information needed to fix what your project failed in." Jack could almost promise that. Constantine was going to regret crossing his best friend. Though without Miranda to focus on, he could understand how Henry looked for a more natural path to creating an heir. All of that stress must have pressured him towards that.

"Jack, I can't think straight right now, but by god that bugger is going to get it!" Henry said. He placed one hand on his forehead, and took a deep breath. "I'm going to get what you asked for, Jack. You obviously care enough about it. Then that bastard Constantine gets it."

Jack gave him a nod, meeting his eyes. Henry was back on board. The man went back to work on Hannah with a will, his hands flying across the tools and her skin as the dermal implants were applied without any complications or problems. Henry was a master at this, even though he was a terrible doctor to talk to about your problems. Jack noticed that at some time during the process, two small vials of something was removed from Hannah and placed off to the side in a frozen compartment in the medical suite. Henry only gave him a small nod at his guess as to what that was.

Unnoticed by anyone in the room, Jack let himself grin. Humanity had a chance. The Reapers could shake in fear, once he was done. He had to stop himself from grinning, but he did make a large note to get Hannah some hard liquor for her contribution. She might not be able to bear children in time to support the timeline, but she had given what they needed. He debated telling her that her efforts would reward her with a child or two, but decided that she wouldn't be able to stop from claiming custody.

No, she would not be the influence that was needed in their lives. Miranda Lawson had lacked a mother's love in her life, and as such became a cold ice queen of an agent, but that was unsuitable to the hero of the galaxy. Shepard had been cruel when it counted, nice when forced, and kind when among friends. His hero would have to be able to wield love like a hammer, cruelty like a knife, and her smile would be a grenade in high tension situations. That was what Shepard had been able to do.

Now, all Jack had to do was duplicate the Hero of Humanity and make sure that the Reapers didn't counter him on the chessboard. He gave a smirk about it, his teeth showing. With that all in mind, he set to the rest of his Hispanic food.

Two months later, December 2151

Allison cursed as her wrists spasmed again. The metallic strips under her skin sometimes caused the weirdest of itching feelings. So sometimes she would just randomly twitch or spasm in response to stimuli from her new equipment. The spasms had been going down lately, and she had finally been given permission to run again. Her therapy for all of the new hardware under her skin was painful, to say the least. She had to get used to a couple of new stretching tendons that didn't feel as tight as they did before. Though she had the coolest ability ever. She could turn invisible. It could make her giggle.

Since she had lost her parents, she hadn't done that. Everything had been about work, about finding the ones who had killed her parents. That had become her job, work for the Alliance Intelligence office's counter-terrorism division. Stop anything from hurting others like she had been hurt. Lose herself in the Alliance military machine. She had been rushed through training, due to her looks. She hadn't preferred the kind of mission that had her wearing some slinky dress observing different rich bastards. But then again, that is how she ended up here.

She grinned, walking up to one of the wall ports and placing her hand on it. She had a pair of gloves given to her that could act like a power jack if applied to a wall or car port for power. With that, she could remain in place and invisible for as long as she was holding it. It was amazing! She loved the feeling of her hairs on her skin rising up as she shifted into invisibility. It made a small *pop* noise when it happened. Jack called it 'generation 1' issues. He acted like this would be just one of a series of installments. This was unique. It was like she was some sort of superpowered human. One that required a power source to stay invisible for more than ten seconds.

So not that super human but it sure made her feel better. After the debacle that was Jack's interview her life had been pretty terrible. She couldn't access any of the Intelligence database or agent group, and had to dead drop her reports. She didn't hear anything from them, and Jack quickly got her life filled back up. She was now one of the most feared business secretaries that could be found, and was quite surprised at the number of people calling with job offers for her. Apparently just surviving more than a week of Jack Harper was a badge of honor among the business world. She was getting six figure income offers on a weekly basis. With every denial she sent in reply, the numbers got bigger and the players got more important. Jack had only laughed at her plight when she got the first few, and now she was a pro.

Jack had other partners in most of his companies, and hardly did any on site work. When he came into the office it was for the big meetings only. Usually he just called in or sent her. She hadn't gone over this kind of thing in boot camp. She did learn how to focus herself and gather and present data in a way that really showed her best side. She was an excellent data analyst. She could react quite well to data in real time, as well. Jack joked that she should have Navy instead of Intelligence with her skill set, but she liked to give him the middle finger whenever he said that.

Jack found her to be tolerable she supposed. There were times where he had to correct her on the runnings of his companies, and his phone calls. He received many, many, many calls demanding his attention. She got very good at dealing with the idiots who thought they could just call and get a hold of Jack Harper as if he was a common business mogul.

Her budget from Jack was a simple infinity sign. He had told her that she could spend as much as she wanted or needed, and that anything that she felt was important probably was. He reviewed her spending and finances every so often and had only found her lack of spending anything quite funny. She was a permanent presence for all of his meetings. As required of his agreement with Ross, she supposed. But that meant that she was the wall between Jack and the rest of the world. He wasn't allowed to communicate or call someone without her say so or her handling the connection.

He had tried to get around that many times. Perhaps he did, but she was very good at keeping track of him. He had made a lot of attempts to call his old lovers, random women, and a lot of calls went to different political groups and lobbyists. She did manage to keep up with him on those. The women she could care less about. She made a lot of noise about it just to keep him on his toes, but she could relate a bit. She hadn't been able to take a day off since getting the surgery. Jack didn't believe in weekends.

So, neither did she. When Jack gave her the two million credit salary for her first year, plus bonuses, she didn't quite know what to do with it. She had never had very much to begin with. Her parents died in debt, and her extended family didn't know she existed. But with one aunt that never married and one poor uncle that she had never met, it wasn't important.

Still, she had three million credits in a bank account that she had no idea what to do with. Jack recommended she invest them, but she didn't trust Jack to leave him with her hard earned money. It was hard earned, for sure. Jack Harper worked sixteen to twenty hours a day, and thankfully worked from the Talon most of the time. His favorite place to work from was the near side of Venus from the Sun. He liked the view of the burning atmosphere, apparently.

She willed the invisibility function off, letting go of the wall just before she did so. That way she could turn invisible with a full charge again soon. If she didn't, it would take her moving and generating static electricity for fifteen minutes or a half hour to get a full charge again. So just walking around charged her system for a twenty second cloak. Grabbing batteries and other sources of power would make it last longer, but they made a lot of noise when she used those to start the cloak.

Still, this was fun. She had snuck into the pilot's lounge one day, and had been invisible for a couple hours while she watched James go about his daily routine. That hadn't been too exciting, but she had tried to stay invisible for as long as possible. The Cloak made her feel a bit itchy after a while, like her skin crawled in the places where the implants were set. But she had observed James in his element, and gotten out while he was in the bathroom, all while he was unaware of her.

Jack had a sixth sense about where she was when she was under her cloak. He might have been able to see it, she could swear sometimes. Figures he would have some way to keep track of her like this. He never had to check his electronics or anything else, though. Bastard.

"Hannah," She had gotten used to him using her middle name for everything. Her Alias was apparently that name, so to get her money she needed to use it. When his voice came over the Omni-tool that had become a permanent attachment to her wrist, she was ready. In a separate display window she brought up his calendar and list of expected callers. It was strangely empty for the day. That didn't happen very often.

"Yes, Jack. You have no appointments today."

"Yes, I cancelled them. Today we are going to go and visit Henry for a checkup."

"Fine. Though I feel like everything is working fine."

"Experimental technology is always a bit buggy. Pack lightly and please bring something casual." Jack never wanted casual. Something was up. She sent a small text to James. Where are we actually going?

Maryland, apparently. I'll have a shuttle coming around in a few.

She brought up a list of related firms and investments in Maryland. Henry was involved in none of them. Suspicious. Henry had been rather busy lately, though. He had skipped out of a few of their meetings and dinners recently. She suspected that his wife wanted to spend time with him. He had even cancelled one of their checkups on her implants.

Jack only had one investment in Maryland, and it was only a small firm that did work for a lobbyist. Political action group or something. Not what she was expecting to find. She grabbed some jeans and a long jacket, and some light gloves. December in Maryland is apparently very cold, so she packed a few extra layers and slipped one of the Hammer shotguns into the small of her back. It was tiny, and the winter jacket covered it. Jack liked his pistols, but she loved shotguns. Nothing was quite as shocking as a shotgun from someone invisible. She hadn't done anything really interesting with her cloak yet, to be honest.

I'll get Jack and meet you at the landing pad. She sent to James. It was easier to type than talk to someone, even though the technology of the day could probably make communication more efficient. But they still used text based messaging and calling technology. She had always dreamed of a day where you could just yell thoughts at things and it would work, but that hadn't been invented yet. Three million credits wouldn't do that, either.

She walked in her very precious and very dear Ugg slippers to Jack's room in the penthouse they were staying at. She didn't bother going into his room. He always had motion sensors placed at all of the doors of the rooms he was living in. Paranoid, but it made him almost always ready to greet anyone. He even made her carry deployable motion sensor in her purse, which was a wonder of technology in itself. It had some element zero in it, hardly any really, but enough to make it weigh less than it actually did. It could make sixty pounds feel like ten. She loved it. It was one of those things that she bought with her first real big bonus of money.

That and another pair of Ugg PressureCooker slippers. Those things were amazing. Though they also came out with a wearable boot model. She owned one of those, too. They would be in use today, since they could cloak with her and made only a small amount of noise. She also had in her purse extra datapads, a spare Omni-tool OSD, and two large batteries that could charge the Omni-tool or her cloak. There was also a spot for her shotgun in there, but she never really got to use it.

She had it with her, and knocked on Jack's door. He opened it briskly, wearing the most odd set of clothing she had ever seen. He was wearing some long haired wig, and a hoodie sweatshirt. His pants were just a normal pair of jeans. It was most decidedly odd. He gave her a wry grin.

"I bet you are confused."

"Hell yes." Jack never was anything but perfectly composed. She had never seen him wear anything other than designer clothes or suits. His shoes were rediculous, and a shoe shine specialist came in every four months to clean his shoes, of which he had enough to wear one a day for three months and not have to worry too much. "Are we meeting someone less than reputable?"

"In a matter of speaking." Jack never spoke directly when he didn't want someone knowing everything about something. Which was often. She just rolled with it these days, since convincing him to give you the full truth was extremely difficult and time consuming. Nothing was more bothersome than getting the full truth out of him, and it was hard to confirm the truth of what he was saying because much of what he said he used conjecture and data analysis and expected growth to prove.

"Well, I have my shotgun and I am sure you have your pistol somewhere on you."

"To tell you the truth Hannah, I have a few options about today but they all depend on you. If you report anything that happens today, it will be very inconvenient for me. This is the first time I will be doing anything like what happened at Shanxi last year."

"So, you are saying that you are going to be committing some sort of crime," She held up her hands, "for the greater good?"

"Of course." He said in that way that made all people with money want to believe him. "I think that after we verify all the testing of your implants we can show you off to your superiors. Then, you can get your job back and we can fully start the Cerberus Foundation."

"What are you doing today, then, other than reminding me of favors unfulfilled?" She asked, in her no nonsense voice.

"Is that your curiosity about what we are doing? Or does that mean you don't want to know and won't mention it?"

"Jack, I haven't seen you wear anything this bad ever. You probably haven't looked this bad since college…"

He scoffed. "I didn't go to college. But the disguise is necessary. As much as I may despise this, my first job was working for a pizza delivery company. So I dug out the old uniform and plan on slipping out the side entrance while you can cover my back. Unless, of course, you want to be in on this."

She couldn't help it. She laughed, and laughed hard. She was snorting, something she usually tried to cover up but she didn't bother this time. She may have leaned into the wall to support herself as she laughed, and with abandon. She couldn't laugh like this in public, but here she felt fine about it. "You didn't go to college?" She snickered more, his face obviously showing distaste. "I went to more school than you did?"

Jack waited for her laughing fit to end before answering. "After my stepfather died, all support that I once had was cut off. So, with no money and no real experience other than working as a pizza deliverer, I set off into the world to make my fortunes. By the time I could afford college, it was just better if I kept going. I started my first company was I was 17. By the time I was twenty, I could claim enough money to afford college and more. But I didn't want to slow down, or stop the economic options from coming in. So I threw myself into my work, and ten years later I was on the top. I received an honorary degree from a university, and after heavy donations to other universities received other more helpful gifts. All of the universities that I support are direct sources of employees. Their fortunes will be able to rise with mine."

He shrugged at her. "I don't expect you to understand my childhood. But I do expect that someone of your maturity understands revenge. Henry and I are going to be cleaning up a little problem that has screwed with us in the past. If we don't deal with him, then you and any other experiments that Henry uses to improve us will be discredited."

"So you are telling me that someone who hasn't done anything yet to you is going to suffer?"

"No. He has killed a couple of the test subjects that Henry was using. More importantly he sabotaged his research, leading to a backfire on a lot of expensive projects for his own gain. So, we are coming after him. Before he does this to some other firms. Before he does even more damage with it." Jack said, pulling out a standard pistol and placing it in the small of his back. With snow gear it would hardly be visible. Jack was very accurate with his pistol, but hardly anything else.

"So, you don't want me to report this."

"No, and if you don't feel like reporting that, you are welcome to come with us and help." Jack said, glancing at her clothes. "Feel up to that?"

Her superiors hadn't felt kind to her or spoken to her in fifteen months. Observers and surveillance still showed up from time to time, but not as invasive as they once were. Even still, all of her questions were rebuffed, and requests for information or updates were never answered. They didn't care. For all she knew, they had just stopped even reading her reports. Jack hadn't bothered to investigate the Reds to her view, or if he did she hadn't gotten to hear much about it. They were being quiet too, only a few scattered bombings and one seizing of a starship that had been reported. All of this made Allison very much not care what her superiors thought of her at this very moment. Even if she wasn't going to be an Intelligence agent she might be able to find out who killed her parents.

"You know what?" She said, giving him a small smirk. "Sure. I'll help you out." She shifted from visible to invisible, and back again. This time holding her favorite knife. "I owe Henry a favor anyways."

Five minutes later, a couple of waiters had boarded the shuttle and were going around on a normal schedule. James would keep the surveillance team off their back while they went downstairs. Henry, as they had found out, didn't have heavy surveillance on him. So when they went downstairs, he was waiting there with a car. A very terrible car.

"Ah, good, we have at least something nice to look at today. Come on in, dear. I hope you have some idea of what we are doing." Henry congenially said as she approached the car. He was wearing the ugliest looking hat and coat she had seen in a while. "Oh, stop staring and get in. Finding something wretched enough took a while."

She smirked as they got into the car. Henry was a much better driver than Jack. Or herself, for that matter. She had never owned a vehicle, and hadn't been planning on it. Computer technology was expensive enough to keep up on. Though with Jack paying for the top of the line models every four months, she couldn't complain.

The drive took maybe twenty minutes in the old aircar, which at one point started overheating. Jack didn't help Henry figure it out, telling him that it was 'his fault for buying something less than acceptable.' Henry just poured some water into the cooling system and that seemed to help. He wouldn't tell them where he bought the vehicle either. But when they finally got there, all Allison could see was a small neighborhood with suburban style housing. Large yards and probably sizable basements in all of the three story homes. Henry and Jack were silent as they landed.

"He lives in the third to last house on the left." Jack said. She couldn't see their expressions from the back seat, but assumed it was a tense one. "If you are in on this completely, then we would like your input. I've got a pizza in the back of the car that might be of use to gain entrance, but if you are here, we might have a better chance."

"You mean abuse my newfound ability and use it to illegally gain entrance into his house to let you in?" She grinned. "Sounds like fun." It also would make it easier to not report this to her superiors. If they even cared. Even if they did, she could retire and be perfectly happy with her wealth at that very moment. The thought was galling.

She gave a grin to both Henry and Jack, and slipped out of the car. She took her purse, and reached into it for anything she might need. Her small makeup kit, along with a few small tools hidden in its edges, that was tucked into a side pocket. As was a large magnet that she liked to use, perfect for ruining security systems. A relatively brute force method, to be sure, but one that worked most of the time. The only other thing she took was one of the batteries, grasping it and sliding it along her belt.

In the December weather, footprints would be noticed in the slush that surrounded the suburban houses. So she made sure to only walk where others had. But she immediately noticed that her nice Uggs did a great job of leaving perfect imprints in the snow. She grimaced at that. It would be a major indicator as to who had come here if the Ugg boots showed up near the house. So she marched back up to the aircar and sat back down in the seat.

"Whichever of you has smaller feet, I need your boots. I can't leave a trail." She told them, pulling her precious precious Uggs off. Jack forwarded his own pair of terrible boots, not too sad to part with them. Allison immediately took a dislike to them. They were ratty, worn down, and were unrecognizable. Perfect for the job but the nice comfortable heat her feet were used to would be gone.

This time when she exited the aircar, it was a bit better. Her tracks were featureless in the slush and mud as she moved to the sidewalk. The feeling of her feet feeling cold was almost alien. Other than meetings where she had to dress up with some nice shoes, she had always been able to work from her desk, where callers would only see her upper body. That meant that sometimes, she would be working and look great, except for the sweatpants and the Ugg slippers. But it was nice to be able to work in comfort.

Some of the mud squelched through one of the holes of the boot. She repressed a shudder and kept walking. She had gone through basic training, where worse than this was expected. She still had nightmares about some of what she had to learn in training to be an agent for the Intelligence office. Her cloak had trouble effecting materials that couldn't hold an electrical charge, so anything with rubber or such was just impossible to work with. So if she tried to cloak right now, she would not be able to maintain it due to the rubber lining in the jacket.

She saw the house she was supposed to get into on the left. It was a standard three story affair, with a small yard in front and a yard in back. The garage dominated much of the space, and the rest of the house was a bit large for just one person. It looked to have around four bedrooms and was rather thin for a house. Signs existed of at least a basement floor, as the foundation was not showing on the bottom floor. No aircars or signs of a vehicle in the area in front of the house, and the front yard looked untouched.

He probably just used his garage to go in and out of his house, then. She shrugged. Not that hard to overcome, for most people. The garage doors were most likely keyed to the alarm system, as were the doors. Windows as well. But the problem with windows was that to install a security detection device along a window, the sensor had to be placed on a location that could detect the glass being broken or the window being opened. Sometimes the system was only programmed to see one or the other.

Her magnet was a perfect use for this. Though it did mess with her cloaking system a little bit if she aimed it awkwardly. She invoked her cloaking system after making sure that she could take cover behind a parked aircar. That meant that she had to leave her coat there, but if things went well she wouldn't be cold for long. Whoever would park their vehicle on a muddy street like this was probably an idiot. But they also made it possible for her to cloak out of sight. From there she was very careful in how she walked through the mud and dirt, leaving only the edge of her boots and tip toe marks where she had to.

She could see the older house's window clearly. At least he kept the windows clean. Or at least hired help to do that. It allowed her to easily notice the small system receiver on the inside of the window. With her magnet, she held it up to the receiver and waited for any reaction from the alarm system. After thirty seconds, there was none. She grinned, bringing out her toolkit and wedging the window open. The window was a bit jammed, having never been opened. But she got it open halfway. That was enough for her to pull herself into the window, and she abandoned her crappy shoes as she climbed through the window. She could get them later, but right now it was more important to not leave any signs of her presence.

The garage was what you might expect of a person who only sees it as a convenient storage space. It wasn't very clean, except for the floors. The walls were cluttered with old tools and equipment, and the space that an aircar would fill was clearly left out in the middle. Boxes filled the rest of the space, filled with objects that she didn't bother trying to notice. No weapons were placed in obvious places, and the door to the rest of the house had a calendar on it. It still said November, so it must not have been looked at too often.

Coming up to the door, she noticed that it was locked. Paranoid, then. The garage door was annoying to get through, but to have the door to the house locked suggested slightly more paranoia than most civilians had merit to feel. Still, that didn't really stop her. Using her magnet on the door sensor and the lockpick set she had on hand, the door easily came open. She then rushed to the hallway, finding the alarm system. She couldn't risk the alarm system going off from some other security feature she didn't know about. So, she came over and attached the Omni-Tool to the alarm system. A flashlight from her pack illuminated the marks of finger oil on the keypad, giving her the four numbers that were the keycode.

The scrambler from the Omni-tool had the code within a few seconds, disabling the alarm system and the detection. Apparently all of the windows, doors, and even certain walls of the house were under the close watch of the system. Half of those walls were on the basement level, which was very curious. But then again, it was hard to stop a determined Alliance trained agent from getting into a location.

With a smirk and a light snort, she unlocked the front door and tapped the communications protocol on her Omni-tool. Deliver the pizza please. Henry and Jack were prompt, coming through the front door. During this time in the day, it was unlikely that anyone other than housewives were at home. So when Henry and Jack came in, bearing the large pizza box, she was waiting for them. Henry was grinning, and gently poked Jack in the arm.

"Good show! We had a bet going for how long it would take you! Hah!" Henry obviously won. It must have been more for sport than anything else, as Jack was grinning. That usually meant that it was for a few hundred credits. Child's play money to them, but for the sake of a bet they were willing to do such.

"So, what are we after?"

Henry glanced at Jack, who immediately spoke up. "What he stole from Henry is in the basement. We have to take it back, and then leave him a nice little case of arson. When he comes home, I want to make sure he doesn't leave. The firefighters will handle the rest. Your part in this is very much fulfilled, Hannah." He refused to call her anything else, but she got over it. He and her parents were the few people to call her by that, and it wasn't worth the argument to make him stop.

Henry gave both of them a look before going for the basement. He gave a bit of a loud roar and a "Bugger!" as he found out that door was locked. Allison grinned as she walked over and undid the lock expertly within a few moments. She gave both of them a grin.

"I think you owe me part of that bet, then. Unless you have any other options for locked doors in the future?"

Both men gave her unimpressed looks. "You want to call this contract work? Rather mercenary of you."

"I get paid enough to joke about that, Jack. Though I don't think this should be included in the duties my salary already requires. Living near you and taking care of all of your admirers already takes all of my attention." She could probably spare a bit of time away from her personal fitness time, but that would just be torture. Jack worked out for fifty five minutes a day. She made certain that her time was matching, and got everything she could get into that. Every few days she got some time at the gun range, as well. But only when they were at a home with the proper equipment.

"Fair enough. I would imagine that he knows that his house is being invaded due to some sort of hidden sensor or detection system. The only way that we could have kept him from knowing would be to cut the physical connections and fiber cabling that runs beneath all of this area." Jack said, digging through some of the hallway cabinets that contained a few bottles of wine. "Ah, he does have some taste. Looks like we are going to be doing a standard robbery and assault. Hannah, be a dear and start grabbing anything that looks to be of some worth and fill up a basket of some sort. We need liability while Henry and I deal with the computer systems."

With that, Jack left her in the kitchen and went downstairs. Henry tipped his hat to her and followed, grabbing another bottle of wine before going downstairs. Hannah then went on her own little crazy spree. Credit chits and watches, phones, and small computers all got pushed into a backpack she had found and emptied. The previous contents were just some sort of scientific gear, nothing of great interest to her. Nor would a robber take the time to care. She grabbed a few bits of food from the kitchen, creating signs of desperation.

Some things from the fridge, a few of the luxury goods from the pantry, and the expensive coffee maker got thrown into the bag. Then a few signs of desperation around the bathroom, taking the soap and the basic living supplies. Not unreasonable for the desperate. She then went upstairs to the truly disgusting bedroom, and tore that apart. There was a few hundred more credit chits hidden under the bed, and she didn't dare touch the rest of the upstairs. One of the rooms had a lock on it, which intrigued her.

It was old, and came off with a bit of pressure when she hammered it. Rusty locks were not always worth picking. When she opened the door, she was a bit confused. The room looked like a teenage girl's. It had purple faded walls, and the bed was still made. But the thick layer of dust showed that no one had opened this door in a very long time. She carefully entered, finding that the pictures had all been turned face down, and the closet was undisturbed. She lifted one of the pictures, finding a picture of a young girl, maybe ten or eleven. Behind her were her parents, one of whom was a man with a set of scrubs on.

Interesting and curious. A completely untouched room that was locked up from the outside. She didn't quite understand that. She shut the door, feeling somewhat uncomfortable there. The other rooms upstairs were just storage and had mostly old boxes with dust on them and old computer gear. She didn't bother searching those. This was a bachelor pad of serious proportions. Pictures didn't decorate the walls, and the nails that once held them had been pulled out. The holes left by the nails still existed, but for some reason the art or photos that once decorated this hallway were gone.

When she got back downstairs, she could see Jack and Henry sitting at couches drinking some of the wine they had pilfered. They both glanced up at her, Henry giving her a thumbs up. "Now what?" She asked them.

"We wait. He will come home soon, at which point we ask a few questions and we take what we need. Did you find anything suspicious as you were going around?"

She shrugged in response. "A few thousand credits in loose chits and some gear that might be worth pawning off. No guns, no signs of serious crime that I could see." She had been looking for signs of whatever crime he had committed, but so far she hadn't seen anything. The basement was the only place she hadn't checked. "What did he do to you?"

Henry had a cold look on his face. "He destroyed millions of credits of research, all so that he could steal the process for himself. The victims from that never reached adulthood."

"What is this program?" Hannah asked. Probably illegal in some ways.

Henry looked at Jack for a long moment. Jack had a neutral look on his face. "This was a project to create artificially produced humans. Not clones but people crafted from the DNA and eggs of real humans. So the proper term would have been beta-human or modified human. The main purpose of the project was to create a pool of biotic humans to perform tests on, to produce technology to help them express their natural talents." Henry glanced at the table. Biotics and their abilities were something highly speculated at this point. Everything associated with them was risky. So far humanity only recognized that the abilities displayed were mutations that could be useful if properly controlled.

"So you wanted test subjects for the biotic research?" She asked carefully.

"The ability to create artificial human life is one that we don't approach lightly. We just wanted to study and develop technology to help biotics use their abilities. The Prothean Archives detail something that translates as a biotic amplifier. Their designs don't make much sense to us yet, or we just simply lack the engineering tools to make things the way they did. So, we need our own amplifiers, and with this project the tests could be accomplished without risking the lives of many of our biotics that we do have. So, when Constantine stole this and sabotaged the main lab, we couldn't raise any trouble about it. Everything was so very illegal at that time that I couldn't find out if he was the one that made the project fail, or if it legitimately fell apart."

Constantine. That name reminded her of something. But that could wait until later. "So, you found out that he screwed you over. Because everything is still illegal, are you going to restart the project?" She asked.

"Yes. Since he made it work, we have no choice." Henry said. "He cloned his own daughter, someone who died a long time ago. He succeeded, at least in cloning her, but the problem remains that he stole from my company to do so."

A flash of memory hit her, from a long time ago. She had been with her parents, when they first arrived at the Mars facility. They had been greeted by one of the research team members, whose name was Grace. Grace… Constantine! "Is his name Quincy?" She asked. She knew exactly who had died in that attack. She knew who their families were and how they were related. Call it an obsession, but she was known as the Intelligence Office's best expert on that attack. Grace Constantine's father was named Quincy. He had protested to his daughter being named in the attack, and had paid a fortune to have her death removed from the official records. She had never known why, but he was a respected name in the field of Prothean studies.

She glanced at the two men, who both nodded. "Then that explains a few things I know about. His daughter, Grace, died in the Prothean Archive attack. What most people don't know about her is that she had administrator access to the facility. Ostensibly it was so that she could work for her father while he was away from the site, but in reality it saved the lives of everyone in the station. When the attack happened, she sealed the civilians and those already injured into separate compartments, and used her administrator privileges to lock the system. The attackers couldn't take hostages and turn the situation into something worse, and demanded that she unlock the system and allow them to escape." She paused for dramatic effect, as Jack had trained her to. "She refused, and then started activating the oxygen systems to drain the air from the chamber they all were in. She killed the attackers, but not before they killed her. So, her name was removed from the official deaths by request. She was the only daughter of Quincy, who wielded a lot of clout at the time."

Jack was listening very closely, and Henry just shook his head. "Well, he has the equivalent of a year old child downstairs. We need to stop him before he gets the idea in his head that he can just create undocumented and illegal humans that can run around uncontrolled." Henry said, sadly. "He ruined what could have been saving all of the lives on Shanxi that are being affected by the element zero explosion that occurred during the revolution. He doesn't care about progressing anything other than his own ends."

Jack intervened. "He needs to die. He knows enough to be a threat to anything we make, and he doesn't care if people die to reflect that. He can just clone them a replacement when he feels fulfilled." He said, smoking a cigarette that he must have lit at some point during their conversation. "Even if we just took all of his research or imprisoned him, it would only be a matter of time before he sold this to someone else more destructive. Can't let the Reds have this or we will have all kinds of trouble in a few years."

She could understand that. She believed that those people didn't deserve to have resources like this. The ability to clone organs and people was a bit too much to be allowed to fall into the hands of anyone, and she might just prefer Henry to have it rather than Constantine. "What about Grace?"

"The clone?" Henry asked. She nodded. "I'll find a home for her. She deserves that much. Being raised as a copy of her sister would be a travesty, considering that we still don't know if the process creates a stable DNA structure." Henry sipped his drink. "All that remains in this is to kill him and be done."

Jack grinned. "Arson or suicide?"

Henry laughed in return. A cold laugh if anything. "He has enough pent up trauma. Suicide seems like a natural reaction to the trouble in his life."

Jack didn't laugh but didn't smile completely either. "Hannah, if you want to go back to the car and wait, I can take this from here. You won't have to report what you didn't see." She only had to think for a second before taking that offer, slipping into invisibility and heading for the door. She didn't care about Constantine, but Grace had been a friend. She had been a hero in the Archive attack, and no one was allowed to know. Perhaps after the death of Quincy, that knowledge could be shared.

She grabbed her coat and the crappy boots and got back to the car. She shoved herself into her Uggs as soon as she got back into the car. Precious precious warmth flooded through her body as soon as she had those on. Waiting for them to finish in the house was a lot less trouble when she was warm.

A half hour passed before Constantine got home. Hannah felt a small bit of guilt step into her mind, but ignored it. She wouldn't report it, but wouldn't say anything about it in a briefing either. Constantine's car went into his garage, and she saw no more of him. There was a flash in one of the upstairs windows, and then things got quiet. Jack and Henry came out of the house sometime later, leaving with the bag of stolen goods and a larger bag that they both carried between them.

The bag should have been on a trolley, as both men were struggling to move it. That gave her a bit of a laugh. Jack Harper, doing menial labor. She almost took a picture of the occasion, as Jack Harper rarely dirtied his hands. She snorted as she saw Henry starting to shake with the effort of holding up the bag on his end. She did open the door of the car for them, at least. No sense getting mud on her precious Uggs. Or at least that was the reasoning to keep her liability on this down.

They slid the heavy bag into the back seat, very carefully. "If she starts getting warnings about her health, just let me know." Henry told her, going back to the driver's seat. She glanced at the bag again. It looked like it was full of electronic equipment. Taking a closer look, she zipped it open. Inside was a tube with an infant inside of it. Her jaw may have dropped a little when she saw this.

"I am glad you got married. Parenting skills this bad are considered criminal in most areas." Jack gave a small chuckle at this, for some reason. Henry at least took the humor in stride.

Henry was getting the aircar out of the neighborhood at a normal speed. It wouldn't do to act suspiciously. "You do realize I am trying to smuggle the child not coddle it!"

"Oh, I do. How are you going to explain this one to your wife? It is not like it was an affair or something." She snarked back at him.

"Bah, the prenuptials allow us some leeway on having an affair. If she wants to have a moment of weakness, I won't hold it against her." Henry said, stoutly holding himself up as someone reliable. Truth be told the man could use a scalpel. But sometimes he just became obsessive in the way he talked or acted.

"I assume that was more for your own freedom, then. Men like you and Jack are all the same. You think with what is in your pants more often than not."

Henry nodded. "The same goes for me, yes. But as to that rubbish you spout about us, I must disagree. Jack and I are quite refined, you see."

She glanced around her. "Refined enough to stage a suicide, abduct a child, and sleep with any women you set eyes on and throw money at?" Jack did not want their little rumor spoiled. So she kept to it, even though there were signs that Jack might not of. But she hadn't been able to prove anything yet. Even if she could have, it wasn't worth it.

Jack made allusions often to her being in his bed. She refused on principle, but the man was pushy. Not pushy enough to convince her, after he had taught her what she needed to know to handle his dealings. Though he never tried to force himself into her bed, curiously. Something to respect him for on some level, she supposed.

"Refined living is all about how you benefit those around you. Create jobs, keep the daily life running. If we just cared about our own tastes, nothing would get done." Henry sounded convinced of his argument, and she had no intention of debating him or Jack on it. Jack could understand her argument, of course. He had started out without any money, so he probably thought he could empathize with the common people. If it wasn't for his ego, she might have considered him a generous man.

"Whatever you want to call it." She said, letting the matter drop. Their argument had some merit, as Jack had turned around the industry that was responsible for building the Navy's ships. It had been a dying industry with the politicians tearing it apart. Now, with the first Dreadnaughts and more updated frigates and cruisers starting to come out of the shipyards, it had become a massively growing market. Jobs were plentiful and a lot of the industry was creating new companies.

Either way, life was looking pretty good. She knew where her place was, and knew what her future would be. If the Alliance didn't take her back, and they would be fools not to, she could always just get involved with financing some military industry. She felt her feet coming back to her normal temperatures as the aircar started driving off. Life was good.

Author's Note

So, with this update I get past the 60k mark. None of my stories have ever gotten this far, but then again, I didn't care as much about them. Sadly my Naruto fandom died a little bit when I decided to stop reading the Manga and just watch the show. Voice actors. All I gotta say about that.

As for what has happened so far: Right now the Alliance is not the same Alliance that existed in the canon series. Due to budget concerns and cuts, the military spending is much less than in canon. Shanxi has shaken up a few things, but only brought racial tensions and colonial fears to the forefront. A good comparison would be the 1500's, when the Europeans were flooding the world with their products. They were the dominant power, and it showed.

If you haven't figured it out by now, most of my college experience has been in History and Political Science. Combine that with an intimate knowledge of how investment banking works, and I feel lik this is how I want to describe the Mass Effect Universe. Either way, if you have any specific person that you felt didn't get enough screen time in the actual game series, let me know and I'll try to get more about them in.

Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I blame my family reunion for the late update. More coming this week.

2152, October, Lawson Labs, Melbourne

Four small tubes were set up in a lab that had as little ornamentation as possible. In each of the tubes were small fetal forms that had wires and other medical technology attached to them. Only three people had access to this room, and none of them were Hannah Shepard. Jack, Henry, and his aide were the only ones allowed in here. Each of the tubes was without a label and without anything to personalize it.

"Why daughters, Jack?" Henry asked. He was sitting behind him, on the one chair in the room, going over the data at the non networked console.

"Women can earn the same respect that men can. But they can also use tools and threats that we cannot use in civil company. They also earn a sense of weakness when people view them. With men, anything that they do that is aggressive or forward can be easily construed, and no quarter is given. They are assumed to be aggressive. Women get in more doors and can go further than men can on most occasions."

"You want your heirs to be aggressive?" Henry said without much surprise. "No one would expect Jack Harper's to be aggressive and demanding." He said sarcastically.

"Not heirs. I don't expect to have much to pass on at that point."

"So, you have me develop two of the most powerful biotic humans and a copy of them as a spare, and you don't want them as heirs." Henry gave him a look. "What is your drive for this, then?"

Jack came over to the tubes and pulled out a marking pen. On the first he wrote clearly. _Julia Constantine Harper_. "Julia is to be all of my dreams realized. Everything that Hannah has been given, she will receive fully. Vision enhancements, reflexes, and the cloaking system. She will need it for what I have in mind." He walked to the tube containing the copy of Julia and wrote on it as well. _J. Harper Spare_. "Disable higher brain functions on the spares. I only need them for when the girls will need new organ transplants. They might need blood as well, and it makes sense to have all of that on hand for when we need it." Then he walked over to the other pair of tubes. _Miranda Persephone Harper_. "Miranda is to be my heir, if a definition for what she will be could be made. She will need the better biotic control, as well as the hardened body structure. Bone weaves, reflexes, and higher g-force resistance when you can develop and install the mods. They will both need the biotics, but where Julia only needs them as a support, Miranda will need them as her main focus. Only the best for either of them." He wrote _M. Harper Spare_ on the other tube.

Henry nodded, already writing down all of the information. Jack had been obsessional about this for most of this year. Ever since Hannah had gotten her cloaking system installed, and Jack had gotten his needed ingredients, his focus had been on making the twins. Both would have dark hair, from him of course. Their other physical features came mostly from Hannah and the other donors. He didn't want Miranda to lack the beauty that she had in his memories. She had used it like a surgical knife, opening doors and recruiting some of the best to Cerberus. There was no sense in denying her that. So when the fetuses were being developed, Henry and Jack had added some DNA components from different supermodels and others that they had experienced and seen.

Julia might be a lot nicer to look at then Shepard was, but if he had his way, that wouldn't limit her. Another weapon in the arsenal of Humanity's Hero would only be a good thing. In this memoryscape, he had accidentally killed any chances of Shepard being naturally born. So it had been his personal mission in life to fix that problem. There would be a Shepard. She just wasn't going to be exactly the same.

The Reapers probably knew this and would react unfavorably. Well, he hoped that they would. He was one man. If he could prove to them that Humanity could take them on, they would have to adapt. If they didn't, then they would probably suffer more setbacks like the death of Sovreign. In reality it had only bought them another two years or so. It had only been a setback but it had cost them so much to achieve it. Jack had a few ideas for avoiding that this time around.

The future had taught them how to kill the Reapers. They only had one weak point on the gigantic dreadnaughts, and that was the focus for the main weapon. Even then, it had smaller secondary weapon emplacements that would tear apart anything that was within range. Most of their weapons were outranged and outgunned by the secondary weapons, much less the primaries. The only location to have a clear shot at the focus for the primary weapon was right down the center. Preferably as close as possible to the Reaper. Their design resulted in a lot of casualties.

The smaller Reaper craft were mostly transports, and had the secondary weapons of the larger Reapers. Still very dangerous, and had the same weakpoint, but more avenues of attack. Attacking the Reapers from straight above or below their lateral axis was the only way to approach without being shot at. As such, they were the most heavily armored. The design was near perfect. Except for the focus on the weapons pointing forward, if the Reapers ever got into a scuffle with something that was as fast or as armed as they were, they might be outmatched.

Too bad his whole 'control them' plan had failed. Even though it was only a product of his indoctrinated mind, it would have been nice. He didn't let his mind linger on that. He had to avoid thinking in any way that might lead him back into the threat of indoctrination. That was a real threat to everything Humanity had going for them. He had at least kept some of the worst of the artifacts that would cause trouble later out of the hands of the weak and easily susceptible.

"Well, I hope everything took correctly. If not you'll have two little bundles of trouble on your hands." Henry said, grinning. "Metabolism is high, biotic potential is extreme, bordering on the excessive. As long as the ratio you gave me is correct, they should be fine. Thankfully, the other tests that we ran with the other fetal subjects had given us a good starting expectation for what we could reasonably do." He was inputting information, Jack assumed something for the care of the twins. He was the only person who could do something like this at this point. No one else that Jack was aware of could have attempted this.

Binary Helix and Synthetic Insights had both experimented in this vein at some point in the future, according to what he remembered, but had not gotten very far. Of course, they were looking for profit. It was hard to make genetic engineering profitable. Genetic modification was easier, but only because it could be easily transmitted. If the body didn't take to the treatment, some very expensive antibiotics were administered that would stop the process.

That would never be quite inexpensive enough to satisfy the general population, but it was affordable enough to get most of the special operations units taken care of. Jack couldn't see a good way of doing that, but perhaps he could improve the longevity of the infantry sent into combat situations. Better armor, better weapons, and much better combat tactics for when the Geth and the Reaper troops would emerge. Jack hoped to provide that. A better Alliance through a paramilitary organization was not the most efficient or helpful of directions he could go.

No, remaining legitimate gave him a lot more options. People felt that they could actually _trust_ Jack Harper. That hadn't happened in a long time. His memories were filled with betrayal and constant mistrust of others. It was for certain reciprocated. This time around he had a nice system of political favors and connections with the rich and powerful. It was quite nice.

"Henry, I will come pick them up when they are ready. But don't hesitate to invite me over for lunch any time. I'll not forget a nice gift for Grace when I come again." Grace Constantine was now Lawson, adopted and placed under Henry's care. With no guarantee that her genetic structure was unstable, or had problems somewhere, Henry was the best possible location to have her. As his daughter, she received a lot of care and devotion. As did his wife, who Henry was trying very hard to get pregnant. As he reminded Jack often when they were together.

"Good. She does cry when you forget, Jack." Henry joked. "I think I'll go and see how she and Helen are doing, then. Where is Hannah today?"

"Oh," Jack said, dismissing her presence as if it wasn't absolutely necessary to have her know everything about his life. "She is handling a meeting for me."

Hannah was meeting with his firm and discussing company profits to his investors. His presence wasn't strictly necessary and so he went 'golfing' with Henry. His Omni-tool chirped. _ Hound. This is Watchdog. The Senate has approved the project. They are opening the Relay at Shanxi._ His eyes widened. This was too early. Six years too early. The Turians were going to destroy them. "Henry, I am going to have to go get back to the Talon immediately. Something just went wrong."

"Go put out a fire, then. Just tell me later if you manage to muck it up." Henry said, congenially not noticing Jack in the middle of a panic attack. Jack nodded to him and started walking out of the facility. Every nerve in his body was telling him to run, but he kept the anxiety down. He did walk quite fast, coming out of the medical facility. True to form, James had the shuttle hot and ready to go. Jack didn't care about extra fuel costs or such. Being able to leave immediately was more important.

He leapt up into the seat of the shuttle, the calm winter only hitting him with a few raindrops. "Rook, I need to get to the _Talon_, immediately. Hannah is to be picked up, as well as the package I was expecting from Markov."

"You got it, boss. Markov's package was delivered to the testing site four days ago, and has been test fired a couple of times. According to the report, it is too large for any infantry to carry alone, or even with one squadmate. Reports say it's too heavy to do anything but mount it on a vehicle." He didn't ask what they were doing with it. Jack had asked him to do harder things in the past. Thankfully, unlike Hannah, his pilot spent his salary. He was building some wondrous house in the California area. Jac could surmise that it was going to be some sort of ultra secure bachelor pad. It even had an underground hangar in place. Very classy. All very efficient, too.

James had them in the air and over international airspace within a few minutes. The _Talon_ was parked with Hannah, over in Mexico. The country was a source of the greatest investors to his firm, so he held his investor's board meeting there more often than not. Being able to speak French and three other languages was useful in that regard. Of course, he hadn't spoken the Asari and Turian that he had learned in many years. It was hard to practice considering that they hadn't come into their perspective yet.

But this time he might actually use them for some better uses than to translate and decode transmissions. It hadn't been all that useful last time around. Of course, he hadn't been one to look at other races as a source of allies in his memories. It was this new mindset that gave him the idea to ally with the Batarians if things went south. They would agree only to the steepest of costs, but they would be a strong power to keep the Turians back if the Council did not intervene like they had in his memories.

The Turians were not going to take this lying down. Someone opening a relay would get their attention, very quickly. It would not be long before something terrifying would come through the Relay and strike at Shanxi. Even the Batarians were terrified of opening new relays, as the threat of something like the Rachni had them a bit terrified. Humanity was on the verge of being destroyed, and Jack couldn't see any way out of this that lead to something reasonable or good.

"Sir, Hannah has left the meeting and is heading to the _Talon_, as requested. She can meet us midway, if you wish."

He blinked. "She can pilot?"

"Well, I might have shown her how to a few times when we were in orbit of Venus. She can fly in a straight line but I don't know about her parking the _Talon._"

"It's better. Tell her to come to my island. The coordinates are in the computer and it is a forgiving enough place to set her down. The water can't do too much to the paint, anyways." He had a few other things at his island that would be very useful. Shanxi had less than a month at best before the Turians would notice them. Their relay was at the edge of the system, and they had plenty of stellar objects in between them and it.

Jack had a small cache of weapons and armor on his island that he had kept around. Some of the best on the market, still, but he had to be a bit more discreet with these purchases. James couldn't get them, and so Jack had to go through Henry for some of these, and had to go to the black market for others. It was worrying that much of the black market was empty these days. Weapons dealers were very quiet, or had found someone to sell their wares to. There had been a large crackdown on illegally traded goods, and so much of the market went back to Hong Kong, Java, and Bangladesh. These areas were corrupt enough and troubled enough that the black markets could survive. Alliance Agents could only observe in those areas.

James had them at the island before Hannah would have the _Talon_ there. She was only a half hour behind them though. "James, I'll need your help with some equipment. We are going back to Shanxi."

James almost tripped. "What? I thought we weren't supposed-"

"Not relevant. They just did something exceptionally stupid. Thankfully they finished the defense station in system." Jack started walking towards his personal storage units, where the material he needed would be. Inside were just a few unopened crates, with a few signs of tampering. Agents had made it here, or they had paid off an employee who had visited. But thankfully, Jack was better than that. The crates only held replacement marble slabs and some sealed Anvil Corporation crates. The crates were empty and everything weighed a rediculous amount. All to cover the actual storage unit. All of the crates had been bolted onto a sliding section of the floor.

James watched as he entered the code into one of his Anvil cases to move the section. He never questioned Jack, though. He was paranoid, and for good reason. Underneath the crates and in the exposed space was a few bags and one eight foot long case. It was sealed with a metal casing that had wheels.

"I'll need your help with the bags. They are mostly weapons and armor."

"Alright. What about the case?" James asked, already grabbing the first bags.

"That would be the first indiscriminate anti armor weapon developed by Markov Heavy Industries." The case did contain that, to be sure. It also contained a small device developed by the Americans back in 2020. Before the development of nuclear weapons was considered completely illegal, a last few bombs had been made by the United States as handheld weapons of last resort, should the Middle East become a world power. Perhaps the Korean states. Either way, the backpack-sized nuclear bomb that rested in the bottom third of the case was very expensive and very difficult to come by.

He had been in possession of this for at least a decade. It was something he had come across in his travels and had to very carefully acquire it. Originally it had been something that he considered using to destroy any Reaper artifacts that resisted normal explosives. He hadn't found anything of that nature yet. So he had kept it in secure storage. But, there was nothing in the rules about these being used to harm non human life forms. For the Turians, a good scare might be useful. The right bomb in the right place might just do that.

Or create such a poor reaction that Humanity might fall anyways. It was a risk, but one he might have to take. Plus, the bonus of possibly nuking a Turian while it was legal he could live with. Certain Turians might need more than that, in his opinion, but that was just his opinion. What was best for Humanity was a different concern. Sometimes his opinion differed from what was needed, but to his view that was a rare occurrence.

Jack put on some work gloves and shook the dust off of them. It had been a while since he had done anything like this. Between him and James, who was admittedly in better shape than Jack, they were able to lift the Markov crate and get it up to the landing dock. The shuttle had to be moved to the service dock, and they finished with enough time to get a drink from the bar. The bartender had been ready with their order long before they even walked up, as a ginger beer came to rest in James' hands, and Jack had a glass of wine. Something a bit more alcoholic with some nice taste.

So, he at least got a few moments to rest on the beach before Hannah made a spectacular landing approach. She parked the _Talon_ like she had practice doing so. Jack gave James a raised eyebrow. "I have a suspicion that you have been the victim of an invisible observer."

"No one else has touched her, I swear!" James tried to excuse himself. But there was also the slight chance that Hannah had been trained to fly frigates or any other kind of vehicle during her time in training with the Alliance. Highly doubtful, but possible. More than likely she just abused her cloaking system and observed what James did very closely. Landing the _Talon_ wasn't hard, but you had to be very careful as you landed, otherwise you might damage something. When nothing on the ship was inexpensive, that usually led to trouble.

They both waited for the ship to hit something, which it surprisingly did not. It did, however, park slightly too far for the landing bridge to reach the dock. That had James jumping the gap and going in to fix that problem, and Hannah coming out of the craft to give him one of those looks she gave investors right before they were going to cave in to her demands.

"Well? What part of Humanity is in jeopardy today?" She asked casually, looking almost eager. A good sign for his purposes.

"Shanxi. They opened the relay there, which could lead to some trouble. The Reds are going to notice that. Considering that most of Shanxi's population is revolutionary or hardly respectful of authority, I believe it is time for you to show your hand." Jack passed her a glass of whiskey. "How badly do you want your prestige back?"

Hannah was almost confused for a moment. But then her eyes hardened. "Oh yes. You might need to go into the market for a new secretary." She said with a grin.

"After this, there might not be a market to come back to." Jack told her. "If the Reds can make their move, we will lose a lot more than just Shanxi." The Reds had been quiet. If anything, they were carefully planning their next move. They had made a small motion towards blowing up a heavy metal cargo hauler somewhere near Mars, but that had been foiled thanks to a few direct pointers from Jack sent through Hannah. Another few operations of theirs had been meddled with or ruined by other groups, while some may have succeeded. The best kind of terrorist operation is the one that people don't find out about until decades later. So there may have been successes, ones that Jack would only become aware of in a few years. Probably too late for him to notice. The signs of successful operations would be there, though. New weapons, ships, and goods being used or being moved around. Hard to trace and harder to go after unless you had a large paramilitary force that could take down military grade defensive positions.

Jack didn't have those. Unfortunately, he might not get the chance to get them this time around. He had made too much of a name for himself. Alliance Intelligence was paying close enough attention to him that he would be under scrutiny for years. Not much he could do to change that.

"Can't lose Shanxi a second time. What's the plan?" Hannah asked, grabbing some of the bags on the ground and opening them. "Oh! Yes! I just saw ads for this shotgun!" She pulled out the bag that he had prepared for her. She ignored the other bags of generic gear, most of which wouldn't be useful against the Turians. They would have grenades, weapons, and armor that would make human gear worthless in comparison at this point. He had a few sets of armor, one of which was much heavier than the others. It might hold up during an extended firefight. His weapons wouldn't. Hannah was the only thing in the human arsenal that might stand a chance at ruining their plans. Jack just had to get her in the right place.

"I think you'll need to make a very interesting report to your superiors. But before you send in the report that will bring their attention focused on Shanxi, we need to verify what I think is happening." If he could bring in the cavalry, then the Alliance would be a lot more prepared for the possibility of invasion. The more attention that it received, the better. He grinned at some of the possibilities.

"Does this mean I can cancel a few days of meetings?"

"Cancel everything for the next week. Label it as a vacation. List our location as here, and list both of us as unreachable. In our absence, have Reid cover the board meetings and reschedule the meeting with Ashland-Hislopp for two weeks from now at the earliest." That might cost him some trust from Todd, but Shanxi was more critical. He finished a cigarette as the supplies were loaded, and then helped James move the Markov case onboard. He didn't want that to be opened by anyone other than himself. So the code was simple. He just was not about to check on things where she could possibly be.

She was in sight, at the bar, already digging into her favorite whiskey. "Vacation! It's about bloody time!" She shouted, James ignoring her pointedly while Jack just rolled his eyes. His secretaries didn't work that hard. Plus, he knew when she was invisible. He no longer had his cybernetic eyes, but the slight ripple in the air that was left by cloaking systems was noticeable, especially to eyes trained to notice the distortions. She didn't enjoy the fact that even with her invisibility, it was extremely hard to sneak up to him. Jack was just paranoid, of course. The last person to sneak up to him had to be killed. Or at least that was how he reacted in his memories.

"A working vacation." Jack said, placing his hand on the Omni-tool she had on her wrist. "I'll need to set up a few meetings of interest for when we get to Shanxi." She let him take the Omni-tool, the one that was enabled for communications. Now that they were onboard the _Talon_, none of her observers or satellites would be able to monitor him as he made a few calls. His signals were of course being payed attention to. The details of those messages would be combed over for any clues as to illegal or unauthorized dealings.

But nothing would be suspicious about an invitation to go out to eat, or for an informal meeting. He had five or so arranged for their first day in Shanxi. With a grin, and a glass of wine, he had his clearance to visit the straggling planet.

"James, please fly the normal route to Shanxi this time. They know we are coming."

"Got it, Sir. How fast do we need to be there?"

"Take your time. Unlike most visits to interesting places, this one won't be too interesting for a few days. But I am sure that we can fix that once we get there."

Allison let the trigger finger get loose. She could clearly see her target, the balding man sitting in a command vehicle at the front of the building. His medals gleamed on his dress uniform as he met with another man in a dress uniform. She was holding the longest rifle she had ever used, which her cloaking system couldn't cover. It could only cover the skin and items that fit into pockets. It also didn't work on armor, so for this she was completely unarmored and could be killed easily.

"I have a sight on the target. Confirm a hit?"

"Go ahead. Distractions are going to start in twenty five seconds." Jack's voice came over her headset. She was sweating a little bit. He had convinced her of why this was needed, but it didn't make her feel any better about it. She leveled her gun on the shoulder of the General, who by now was in the middle of some sort of military function. Jack claimed that this would 'stir up the hornets nest'. Taking a shot at a general over a planetary garrison would do that.

Thankfully, she noticed the slight distortion over the facility from a kinetic barrier. Her shot wouldn't pierce the barrier, which made her feel slightly better. So, she took a deep breath and took the shot. The round hit the barrier, and then seemed to partly pass through it, She had never heard of a round doing anything like that! She had to sit there a second and bring her eye into the scope, checking. The General had marines already covering him. He was moving though, which was good.

Good, yes, the weapons aimed in her direction that were probably at his orders. She picked up the rifle, the weapon shrinking down to a more manageable size. She slid it into place on her back, and then pulled her small woolen jacket over it. It did nothing to hide the shape or barrel of the rifle that still poked upwards. It did, however, carry enough static current to let the cloaking system cover the rifle and her. It was more unstable the more surfaces it had to cloak, so she had to be extra careful that she didn't bump into anything.

The ladder from the top of the building disrupted her cloak a small bit. She had to grab onto the battery in her pocket to restart the cloak. She could hear a gunship in the distance. It might be able to kick up enough dust to disrupt her cloaking device. That was something she needed to avoid. She slid down the ladder and landed on the soles of her Uggs, which had been rebuilt so that the very signature bottom of the boots did not match anything like them. Ugg boots were distinctive. Hers were even more so.

As she walked quickly, she kept down the urge to call Jack on the comms. Right now the locals were probably looking for any sign of suspicious communications. She wasn't going to give them anything to follow. A few loose boot prints that appeared at the bottom of the ladder, combined with a little bit of scuffling marks towards the street, and then she grabbed hold of the zip line. Jack had told her to get out of this in whatever way she preferred, and she liked leaving a few false trails. The zip line was simply to the top of another building, but one down at the other end of the block.

She kept her heartrate down, even as the zip line came to an end. The end of the zip line she started from was located underneath some shingles of a roof. It could extend itself and connect easily. The zip line itself was magnetic, and could take anyone either direction, even with one side being vertical. Such was the beauty of next generation technology. Zip lines that you could ride back up. Element zero wasn't even involved on these, though for sure it could help in the next iteration. The market for them was small though, and to own one would be highly suspicious. Still, the thought did occur that she wanted one.

Another nice feature was that the cable could fold up and retract really quickly. As soon as she got to the roof, she engaged the retract function. This was where the zip line wasn't so stealthy. It made a few noises as it retracted across a couple hundred feet. Since it was already mostly taut, the line shot like a bullet at first, but caught on a few things as gravity dragged the bolt end down. On the far side, the hook had already retracted back under the shingle, hiding the location she just vacated. With a click of her tool, the other end was clipped onto her belt and she started walking into the crowds on Main Street. The magnetics of the zip line had disrupted her cloak, and using the system in a crowd of people was not a good idea. There were too many places that it could be disrupted by a spray of liquid, air, or a bit of dust kicked up from their feet. The road was already a bit dusty, but if a vehicle came through it would be worse.

So, she walked with her coat covering most of the gun. On Shanxi, lots of people carried guns. It was a known fact that it had one of the highest murder rates in colonized space. Yet that did not discourage the two hundred thousand new colonists from settling there. It was within the range of comfort for most colonists to not freeze during the winter or burn during the warmer months. It was almost as nice to settle on as Terra Nova, another large colony that was experiencing large waves of colonization. Most of the buildings were made of silicon and prefab shelters. Concrete broke down very fast on some of the new worlds, and so a few harder compounds had been invented to fill in for it.

Shanxi had a lot of these. The roads were solid, and other than the ever-present dust everywhere, it all looked like a somewhat dry area of Asia. A very nicely developed and planned part of Asia to be sure. Most of the people leaving earth were from Asia, Africa, and South America. The other continents had experienced a population boom after the trouble in the 2000's and didn't quite have the numbers to throw around as heavily. Still, you could find a few white and black persons among the thousands of Asian heritage on Main Street. Certainly not many with red hair, though. It was one of her defining traits. Most of the time she dyed her hair with a temporary hair color.

Today, it was black. A little bit of coloring in the cheeks and some coloring to make it seem as if she had Asian ancestry, and she was unnoticed in the crowd. A few with weapons in the same caliber noticed her. One man even tried to take her picture. From the lewd grin she assumed it wasn't benign. She just pushed him into a larger fellow and watched the fireworks go off. Men were easy to predict, in her opinion. Rile them up and they will attack the nearest target. Men like Jack Harper, though. They liked to play the game where civility was only a cover for their actions.

She was able to walk back into the area by the space port without any trouble. None of the news networks reported anything about the General being dead. After all, it wouldn't do to kill the famous General Williams. He had been through the founding of the Human Systems Alliance as one of their top performers. He had led the troops into the contested areas of Africa when combat first broke out there, after the genocide that had been inflicted onto the white population of South Africa. The population had required a bit more effort to control, but with the new wave of technology, it had been easy. General Williams was one of the more respected members of the military, and shooting at him was not the easiest of decisions she had ever made.

So when she came inside the dingy bar that Jack had taken over, she slammed her hands onto the table for a bit of a kick. Her enforced calm had lasted only for so long. "You said they would have barriers up!"

Jack seemed unconcerned. "So the experimental phasic rounds worked? Good."

"I could have killed him! The General could have died!"

"But he didn't. Current phasic rounds only transfer a hair of a percentage of the force of the shot past the shields. I was just testing the possibility of them working. At the same time, it shows that the Reds have experimental technology meant to get past the shields employed by the military. All in all, a good thing."

She gave him a glare. "Explain why this is all a good thing."

"Simple." Jack said around his cigarette. In this dive of a bar, it kept the smell of mold away. "The Reds were preparing to attack and have already bought this same technology. This disarms the surprise that may have come with their snipers using this later. More importantly, this might be cause for General Williams to reinforce the base and star system with a few more troops and vessels. If that is done, they might be able to stop a full revolution from happening. More importantly, this might be enough to keep the fighting down. The Reds are still here, after all. The amount of colonists from Shanghai and Hong Kong have never been fully documented. We both know that they are smuggling more than just people. It is only a matter of time until they can strike without chance of the Alliance taking back Shanxi again."

She knew it was right. She had double checked all of the sources he had during the flight to Shanxi. Some of it only made sense if you were looking for it. Military vehicle grade Palladium, ostensibly for construction vehicles that had never been confirmed on delivery. Nor were the amount of palladium mentioned. Small details that had been forgotten in the massive wave of construction that was occurring on Shanxi. But it was all within normal levels. Even on earth, these numbers would be considered normal, except for maybe the levels of metals and people that had gone missing. Even with the heightened security that Taurus Station has brought, a lot had been slipping past it.

Taurus station was an asteroid body that had been towed to the orbit of Shanxi to provide a planetary station to manage the new influx of traffic. Not only that but it hosted a large number of fleet tenders and a drydock. It was a strong military installation that would be able to be used in the event of a revolution. Hopefully they wouldn't need it.

"So, if the General doesn't reinforce his position?"

"Then his base, as it is next to the spaceport, will fall. Shanxi will be retaken by the Reds within 48 hours. The mountain that once housed Tyrrel Headquarters will be the last stand location." Jack seemed completely calm as he said this. But he was smoking and had a large glass of wine. That was a good sign that he was at least worried about all of this. There was no way of knowing if it was his first, as any spare cups had been removed. The table was also in terrible condition, so the watermarks were not a good way of checking either.

"So, contact my superiors?" She asked with an air of annoyance. She just shot at General Williams. That was never going to go down in her record if she could avoid it. "On the note of trouble, how much would it be to coat a gun in polymers that can conduct static electricity for my cloak?"

Jack gave her a grin. "A lot. I have been trying to have it developed without the public being aware of it, or of the company being aware that I am trying to have it be developed. No guarantees of it becoming standard, but it might be ready in a few years." She slumped a bit. No weapons she could take into her cloak with her yet. Jack kept talking though. "Yes, we should probably contact your superiors. Would you prefer your normal method or should we just comm Ross directly?"

She just gaped. "We can't just _call_ Ross! She would kill you!" Really, she would. Then Allison would really be out of a job. She already shot him once. Ross would probably be overjoyed to shoot him.

"Oh yes we can. After the debacle where I got shot I found her contact number and kept a hold on it. Ross would probably notice you calling her a lot faster than reading her reports from inactive assets." He stressed the word inactive. He was just saying that to get her riled, and they both knew it.

"I'll send a report first. How shall we claim that the Reds are going to imminent attack?"

Jack smirked. "I think the news reports will be enough. Sending a sample of the newly developed Phasic rounds might impress them a bit further. So, for your purposes I acquired two samples. One for the attempt and one to send back. Understandably you'll be sending the unused one."

"Do you have any idea how many of these mods have been sold to anyone here?" She asked, typing all of this up. She also had to arrange a dead drop.

"At least three more from the dealer I went to. Assuming he is getting more of these, we could be looking at a few dozen of these mods out there. Enough that the snipers the Reds can field will be able to go through most shields to hit their targets." He said, trusting in her to make a report.

She made a point of explaining the expected numbers on these. The ammo block had no signs of identification, or any way of telling how many in the series there were. Definitely illegal to produce, and definitely something that the Alliance would want to see. She had the report mostly ready, and then put a note at the end.

_Jack Harper believes that an attack by the Reds in Shanxi will occur within the next 48 hours. Action should be taken to reinforce the garrison as well as Taurus Station. This agent recommends that anti sniper teams and urban combat specialists also be sent. The ammunition block that was bought from the black market will be sent via dead drop. Research and Development might find it interesting, as the vendor claims that portions of the force are sent through any kinetic barrier that is set up. The possibility exists that dozens of these mods are in the hands of or being produced by the Reds. _

With that, she sent off the message with her standard level of encryption. She and Jack waited a few minutes to see if anyone replied. Of course, as usual, there was no reply. She slumped by the bar, getting something alcoholic for the stress of waiting for a reply that wouldn't come. She hadn't had to pay for her own drink in years, thankfully. Jack had a drinking budget that exceeded five figures. She was included on it, and she never really went too hard on the drink. He preferred wine, and preferred to sip it. She liked hard liquor, and she liked to drink. Sometimes she would binge. Losing her position in the Intelligence community had been hard to take. She didn't binge as much after realizing her salary could keep her going for years.

"Sent. No reply. No sign that they will take any action." She muttered.

"They have to verify all of it. Then after it is verified, take it to their supervisor and have them check it out, at which point Ross sees it. Then she decides if they take action on this. That is how I assume this is going to go. Ross will most likely try to keep us out of it, more to keep me from meddling than to keep you from restoring your trust." He correctly guessed her worries, but that was obvious.

"Well, then, when are we leaving?" She asked, assuming that now that they had started all of this mess that they would just leave and watch it happen from the safety of the _Talon_.

"We aren't. Not this time. Not while we have the chance to showcase your mods and get you back into Ross' favor." Her heart leapt a tiny bit. She tried to keep her emotional response down, as she had been trained, but that was not possible.

"How?!"

He didn't smirk, which right now would near about get him slapped. He did take a moment to drink and put his cigarette down. "What if you very publicly removed one of the leaders of the Reds, inside their base and inside of their defenses, as well as escape unharmed. You would become somewhat of a sensation, I would imagine. Enough that Ross would have no choice but to reinstate you."

She gave him a shark-like grin in return. "Point me at them." Oh yes, she was getting her job back. She just had to go and knife someone. Not too hard.

Charles Pressley was a night shift bridge crew members. He did his level best, but was honestly in over his head most of the time. He had only gone into the Navy six months ago, and they had been throwing guys like him into positions all over the place. Young guys like him were in positions that had previously been for men with years of experience on ships. But the rush of construction and Naval recruitment had brought on a need for younger and younger men to quickly get sent through flight school. He was one of those people, having been run through school as fast as he could clear the requirements. Since it was peace time for Earth and her colonies, it was not so bad to have a rush of recruitment.

Still, that meant that things that should have been finished in previous shifts were not being done. So that left his shift with the unfortunate task of finishing the work from the last shift and their own. Since he was on the _Kursk_, that meant a lot of headaches as he corrected and fixed up the problems that the inept daytime shift couldn't handle. He was surprised that they lacked even the basic decency to apologize or explain their problems. Still, he would do his best.

Then, the next station over gave a large alert. The operative perked right up, taking a look at what was going on. Pressley realized that the captain was asleep and the Lieutenant was the only officer on the bridge. He of course wanted to know what was going on.

"What have we got?"

The other airman quickly answered. "We have a few sensor ghosts, far side of the system. The _El Paso_ and the _Cannae_ are further from the relay, but they should have noticed this earlier." He stared at his screen for a moment longer. "That's odd. The readings just disappeared."

The Lieutenant was not an officer for nothing. "Have the _Cannae_ go check it out. Tell the science ships to get to the other side of the relay and have the _Paso_ cover them. Bring us up to Red Alert. If those were ships we might have a First Contact today." He was breathing quite quickly. The man was known to have panic attacks, but he was also one of only two Lieutenants onboard. Again, the Alliance Navy had a lack of strong officer material. The other officer onboard had issues with claustrophobia. Poor devil.

"What in the blazes is going on?!" Captain Rogers bellowed as soon as the bridge doors cleared. Frigates were small. The captain's quarters were just down the hall, which allowed him to get here as soon as the alert went out. Thankfully, Pressley was still on shift for this. The other guy had pulled a 12 hour shift and was therefore not allowed to be on the bridge for a Red Alert. He would have to double in with the engineering crew.

"Sensor ghosts at the edge of the system, Sir." The Lieutenant said, coughing. He was breathing too fast as it was. "Could be ships."

"Get outa my chair!" He replied. "Good work, Lieutenant. Perhaps it is nothing, but if it isn't, then you'll get something. Perhaps a discharge. Heh." The captain was easily amused. "Tell _Cannae _that she needs to slow down and stay in our envelope. We need to be careful here."

The _Cannae_ was supposed to go through a few planetary bodies before coming back to the relay, but that might disrupt or hide the ship from their sensors. The _Kursk_ had the better sensor equipment in the patrol, but that was necessary. Lead ships were given that. Pressley was just a Navigator. Captain Rogers and the rest of the bridge crew watched as the _Cannae_ flew towards the central part of the cluster, keeping in sight. But it wasn't long before she came back towards them as fast as she could go.

"What is going on, Sanders?" Rogers growled at the communications console.

"Nine ships, sir! Coming in fast! They have jamming that keeps their signals hidden!"

"How far behind are they?" Rogers was looking at the navigation panel now. Pressley shriveled into his seat a little more knowing that the Captain was staring him down.

"They will be on us in less than four hours! Their craft have a higher top speed than ours. We count six frigates and three cruisers."

Rogers was quiet. Outnumbered three to one, with a technological disadvantage. That was difficult to overcome. "Sanders. I'm about to ask you a tough one."

"Sir?"

"Before they get here, we are going to go through the relay back to Shanxi. You aim yourself towards the relay that the scientists just opened." Everyone gave Rogers a look. He was asking Captain Sanders to sacrifice his ship. "Once you get through, get to ground and wait for them to clear off. Then, get back to us when the way is clear. Do you understand, Captain?"

"Yes Sir. I hope we give you enough time." Sanders replied quietly.

Pressley was in a little bit of shock. He could see the reasoning, sure, but this was unheard of. Captain Rogers was going to sacrifice a ship. But from what he could tell, the other ships would be able to catch up to the _Cannae_ enough to see what relay she was heading for. Protocol was clear. Protect the civilians.

"Nav! Get us home." There was a pause. "Nav!" Oh! That was him! Pressley quickly started the processes for getting them through the relay. They needed to get out of here, and fast.

"Yes Sir!" Pressley near-shouted as the patrol of two frigates and two science craft shot towards the relay home.

Jack calmly waited. The Turians were coming. They had come on fast and hard last time, and this time they would be no different. Thankfully, Taurus Station was a bit different this time. Tyrrel Headquarters, too. This time a few locations on planet were immune to kinetic strikes. That would give General Williams a nice fallback point. With the Reds, and their natural tendencies towards guerilla war, they would make fine distractions. Against the Turians thats all that they would be good for. But they would find that the 'civilians' would have a lot more weapons than expected. Taurus Station would be a very solid piece of work, holding off their attack craft for a long time.

Tensions were high on planet. That shot that Jack had taken on General Williams had been the tinder. Now the Reds were getting shifty, and might actually attack. The General had gotten an entire battalion of men shipped in last night, all very hush hush. Jack of course knew about it, as would the Reds. They had observers everywhere. Or informants. All he had to do now was wait for the fireworks to start. Either the Reds would start their attack and possibly throw things into a full revolution, getting the attention of the Alliance, or the Turians would show up and create a feared enemy to confront.

Yes, all was well.

"Why the hell are we offloading all of the liquor?" Hannah yelled.

"Because the _Talon_ is going to be bait. James is going to take it somewhere else. While we hole ourselves up in this restaurant and get ready." He had been drinking a lot in the past couple of days. Enough to wake up slightly uncomfortable. "We will need the alcohol for the following time period. It will be a more effective usefulness as a chemical solution. That, combined with the truly massive amount of firepower on this planet, and I think we might have a good chance."

Hannah just sat down and slumped. "So you want all of the things you can use instead of currency when things go down? Why even stay when you know its coming?"

"Because leaving won't do me any good. Different world leaders are going to be coming here in the next few days, and we need to entertain them and calm their fears. In addition this also might get attention of the Reds and General Williams. I will be at the center of this no matter what."

"Because you invested in Shanxi?" She was aware of most of his finances. "This planet has more invested in it by you than any of the other colonies. You invested almost a tenth of your personal budget into this area. The colony is payed for, bought, and basically in your name. You can get the money back. Hell, you destroyed the colony once!" He gave her a glare in response to that. That was not something he caused. He had never wanted to destroy the colony.

This was one of those topics that was never crossed between them. It had come up in the past and Jack had never addressed it. There was just too much of a chance that she would find out more about what he did, and possibly connect it to the attack that took her parents. If she found out that it was him, as she still investigated that on the side, Jack was dead. She had a slight obsession about this.

"Because I can. I helped ruin this place once, yes. Does that mean I am not allowed to pay them back?" He had honestly been trying, but the Reds were just so hard to please. "I am trying to get this place back to where it is supposed to be. When I saw that the Reds were about to take it down again, I decided to act. Now, I am here, and I am going to be here so that we can save it."

"You are one man. One man who does more from behind a desk than he ever could with a gun!"

"Deskwork? People moving? Investment?" He sneered. "With one bullet I can change our world much faster." He had in the past. Cerberus had removed many threats to humanity over the years. A single shot could sometimes prevent pirate raids. Sometimes even more than that. "Don't ever think I wouldn't pull the trigger if I had to."

She glared at him. He sneered back. It almost made him think about the last time this had happened to him, right before the redhead had lifted up her gun to fire at him. Shepard! The Citadel! The images came back full force, the only difference being very slight. Hannah was sitting there, harping about the same things that Shepard always did. He blinked, coming back. Hannah wasn't about to shoot him. She seemed to notice his lapse. "Jack, are you alright?" That was real concern in her voice. She wasn't giving him a glare anymore.

He felt his hands shake a small bit, so he let them drop from the table. He could feel his blood flow increasing, and an almost pulsating itching pain in his front temple. It was right where he had been shot. His vision darkened slightly, and he lost some of his balance. Before he fell to the floor though, Hannah had taken hold of his arm and kept him upright. When he tried to focus his eyes, nothing happened. Everything remained out of focus, and almost every nerve ending in his body felt numb. But his mind stopped being impaired. He could recognize the signs.

This was every sign of trauma. He must have been getting some sort of trauma experience from the death he had experienced. He hadn't had the ability to feel anything at that time, nor did he have the ability to feel emotions in response to external stimuli. Apparently that didn't mean that the memory couldn't carry what the Reapers had taken from him at the time. He tried to create the calm that he always had been able to focus on, but nothing came. The shakes didn't stop.

The blasted images of Shepard shooting him kept rolling in, with the feeling of blood coming out of the wound, and the minutes of time he spent bleeding off. Before any of this continued, he felt his face rock with real pain. Soon after that, he felt the table meet his cheek.

"God! I've wanted to do that for years!" He heard her say. The images faded from his mind, replaced by the stinging pain on his cheek. She had _slapped_ him. "But for different reasons. You were losing it." She seemed to be justifying it. But on the other hand, he was not about to thank her for drawing him out of PTSD induced mania.

Picking himself up from the table, he gave her a level look. "Well, now I know who is going to be on top." It seemed like the best retort he could come up with. Her indignant squawk was her response. But she recovered. She had gotten used to his brand of humor, but at rare times he could get quite the response from her. He would sleep with her one way or another, but as his secretary and his way of getting his future back on track, he couldn't afford to mess up their relationship. Once she had moved back into the Intelligence Office's active agent numbers again, there would be less risk of breaking anything by sleeping with her. Though the wait was becoming slightly intolerable.

"Well, next time you lose yourself to PTSD, I won't help you." Hannah told him with some indignation. "Is your method of coping to just mock the nearest helpful person?" She still steadied him, though. It was enough to prove she was at least an effective secretary.

"No, I simply reply to acts of kindness with offers of the kindest thing I know how to give." He felt his vision coming back and his blood rushing back to his extremities. "Not to mention I react to high stress situations with innuendo and offers to come to my bedroom." She didn't say anything in response to that.

"Well, you seem to be yourself again." She replied after a moment, taking the time to watch as his hands stopped shaking. "What triggered the memory?" _Your daughter, shooting me in the face,_ he wanted to say, but didn't. If he did then he would be certifiably crazy. But he had to tell her something.

"You never have memories about losing your parents?" He asked, causing her eyes to darken slightly. Revenge wouldn't be a problem for her, he could tell. But he wouldn't be telling her that the object for her revenge was right in front of her. More ironic when she actually slept with him. "My mother didn't have anyone to protect her or support her. So when I got a job, I wasn't able to be around as much. Once I left the arcology, I never saw my mother again. Sometimes," He put some artificial emotion in his voice. He knew that she had been trained to recognize PTSD, and she had to be sold on the story. Even if it wasn't exactly true. He had left to work, yes, but leaving his alcoholic mother was planned. "Sometimes I have trouble with that."

Hannah didn't want to dig too deeply into it, he could tell. Sharing secrets like this made her feel uncomfortable. Probably because she was used to a purely professional working relationship between them. She was one of the least emotionally-blinded people he had ever worked with. It was what he wanted in his Hero. Going behind her back and cloning modified daughters of her eggs was probably not the most ethical of options, but it offered the greatest chance of success within his timeframe. He was betting all of his hopes on two cloned versions of Hannah Shepard, himself, and a few of humanity's best and most intellectually and physically gifted.

If he had to wait for medical technology to be able to replace her damaged reproductive organs, it would be years. Not to mention the likelihood that Shepard would have other problems. He did remember that cloned tissues in those area often did not do as well as the originals. He couldn't take that risk and have Shepard come out with some crippling disease or lack of what was needed. No, he had to do it this way. She would never have agreed with him on this, but it was the only way to accomplish his needs within the time frame available.

"Well, at least you didn't see her die." Hannah muttered. "What about your father?"

Jack didn't let any emotion show. "I met him once. When I was recovering from a bad injury to my eye, I decided to investigate who my father was. I was quite disappointed in what I found. Considering that I had always associated most of my inherited bad habits with my mother, it surprised me to find out that my father was an even sorrier piece of humanity. I have never introduced myself to him since." That had been in his memories, though. This time around he had no intention of introducing himself to a career garbage cleanup worker. Even one who had a high IQ and a photographic memory, all of the tools he needed to succeed. He had just never tried.

"Didn't he recognize you?"

"No." Jack said. "I took my mother's name. It had been twenty years, and he had never been the most driven member of society. Gifted, certainly, but he had never had the drive to follow through on his goals." He drank in response to this. Sharing his origins and secrets had not been an option in the memory-life. In this new memoryscape that he was still certain the Reapers had locked him in, it did not carry the same consequences to share secrets. Everyone knew that he had made a name for himself from nothing. He had become the man he wanted to be. He could sleep with nearly any women he wanted to, and go into any location in Alliance Space and be respected.

"Was this all triggered because I thought we should leave and run?" Hannah asked, nursing her own drink.

"Possibly. PTSD symptoms are rarely as direct as what I expect them to be. NOr are they predictable." He clarified. "But I was more going to stay and stop the Reds directly."

She didn't scoff or snort at this. Because for Jack Harper, this was standard fare. The impossible is only improbable for those with the power to change the world. "What do you need?" She asked.

"A few things delivered. Then I will need some sort of pastries and an actual dinner plan." He gave her a look. "Most of these deliveries will be sent to areas where you will get shot for delivering or even being there. I am bringing all of the local leaders that I can to the table." He tapped out a list of people and locations into her Omni-tool and handed it back to her. "You have two days to find them and get the message delivered. Make our own envelopes or something like that, no electronic record of what we do can be left. While that happens, James and I will be hiding the _Talon_ somewhere decent and preparing for a long stay. Amandeep will stay with the craft until we need to get out of here."

Hannah gave him a smile. "You know, you have the weirdest way of doing good for the public. It would do wonders for your image if you published a biography about all this." She all but sauntered out of the dingy bar, fading into invisibility. He just smiled, drinking the last of his drink.

Five days later, the dingy bar was as clean as it was going to get. It was well stocked with everything he would need, and already the regulars had recognized that something was going down here tonight. They all scrambled to leave. This left the observers that the different factions within the Reds had placed in the bar, and a few toughs already in place. He had chosen not to hire local muscle, as the different factions would bring their own. If anything went down, he was most likely not going to be hit. That had everything to do with the fact that he was wearing kinetic barriers inside of his jacket and had one battery for a recharge in his pocket.

Hannah was invisible, behind the bar counter. She had a few grenades and a rifle. She also had her shotgun and pistol, both of which were small enough to be concealed in pockets or her shirt as she cloaked. Since she didn't get to wear armor for all that, she had a kinetic barrier system as well and a few batteries for it. She might have to move to maintain her cloak in a new location that didn't have a power jack. Or there might be a loss of power, he didn't know. But he did trust that his only defensive option was going to be well armed and very capable.

He had made a semi-circle of tables around a single one, where he would be sitting. The five different major factions of the Reds he had contacted would be coming, so he prepared seats for three members of each faction. There were going to be complications, as many of them would only send lieutenants and such. But he did have a bottle of his best at his table, and some local news stories to read through. There was a lot of movement going on, and a lot of it he could only see hints of. He turned off the datapad he was working on and focused on new arrivals.

The doors had banged open with a screech, as he didn't want to have the doors oiled and cleaned with everything else. They were nice to have as a warning system. The first leader to walk in was in charge of the dock worker's union. He controlled much of the shipping industry through that union, and supposedly had people in Taurus Station. Following him was a few lieutenants, of three other factions. One was the faction in charge of local industry, shopping, and produce. Food was important, and they did control it. The other two factions controlled fuel in system and guns. Guns were easy to own on Shanxi. It was considered a good idea to buy one for each member of the family. Guns were an open secret on Shanxi, that ownership was expected, but owning a gun that was an equivalent of a military grade rifle was considered slightly taboo. Enough that some had them and just kept the weapon off their person.

The fifth faction, the one in charge of the housing and drug trade, didn't come. That was troubling. They were the biggest threat and the biggest ally that Jack wanted in the weeks to come. They were the most likely to be able to prolong a complete victory by the Turians. More importantly, they had tunnels buried all over the colony that would survive a kinetic bombardment. Or at least could provide a better chance of surviving. Last time Humanity had tried to fight on Shanxi, it had been a very peaceful colony. There were no areas of fortification, or areas that could withstand a kinetic bombardment.

This time, Shanxi was a fortress. The second most heavily invested in colony that they had, with Tyrrel Headquarters built right into the mountain. It would take a lot of effort to pound it into the ground. Unfortunately, it was now part of the military base, and included rudimentary kinetic barriers. Those wouldn't last long against the Turians, but it would buy them time to survive the initial bombardment. Underground rails, tunnels, and housing provided the Reds with what they needed to be able to get to, and smuggle their needed equipment. Terra Nova was hardly worked on compared to Shanxi.

"You all should have figured out why I called you here tonight." If his bets were right, they hadn't. Hannah didn't know and she knew his methodical mindset the best. But even she didn't know about the possible future. Then again, he would consider that cheating. "I invited you here to stop what is about to happen."

"Convince me that we shouldn't kill you right now." Said one of the lieutenants. No one challenged him, at least not yet. "You know too much to leave here alive."

Jack leaned back in his seat, letting the first wave of alcohol get to the visitors. "I know enough. As much as anyone who funds you knows." That got some stares. "You work for a conglomerate of individuals. Knowing every single one of them is difficult to do, as some of us must maintain some anonymity to be able to support your actions." Jack lit a cigarette for his own amusement, smoking it once before letting it rest in the holder. "As such, I called all of you here today to ask a few simple questions." They all were glowering at him. Glares and intentions to kill him were clear. "First, who was the damn idiot that took a shot at the General?"

All of them looked angry at that. He saw some glares move from him to the faction in charge of running guns into the colony. Spreading the possibility of doubt was the first step in taking control of these men. "We didn't do it! None of our men took the shot!" Said the lieutenant angrily. "We didn't even see the shooter! Our surveillance network saw nothing!"

"The shooter used a new type of ammunition, that can't be traced as of yet." Jack said, getting the attention of everyone at the table yet again. "Prototype shield-piercing ammunition mod. The black market sells them here, as I was able to buy one earlier this week for quite the price." He dropped the brick on the table, and looked back up impassively. "It has been dubbed 'phasic' and has stirred up the military and the Navy all over. You can imagine the idea of this being able to get past their defenses rather terrifying. That is why an entire battalion landed last night, and two more are on their way." A good amount to fight back against the Turians with.

The reactions of those at the table were of scorn. They didn't want to believe it. But Jack was someone that had come out of no where, dragged them out into the open, and had presented information that benefitted them. "We are aware of the extra soldiers. You undoubtedly want to warn us of the extra patrol of ships, too?" The gun providing faction offered. He seemed unamused. Jack decided to blow his mind.

"The entire Second Fleet has mobilized." It wasn't technically a lie. The Turians required the entire Fleet to be extricated. "Thirty-five ships of the line have left their berths and are on their way here. If you go through with any plans to start a revolution in the next thirty six hours, you will be promptly crushed." Jack took a drink while they processed that. "As such, I only ask that you hold off a while longer. I have an inkling that the conglomerate has invested deeply into another endeavor, which will soon take the pressure off of you."

"We have not been made aware of such." One of them replied. "Nor do we plan to take you on your word."

Jack shrugged. "I don't expect you to. But here is a promise I can extend. My name doesn't matter. What does matter is that I control the price of all merchandise that leaves this planet. I own more than thirty percent of this rock in one way or another, more than any other single individual." He finally allowed an expression to show on his face. "Let me be clear. If you so much as take a single step over the line, I will end all economic benefits on Shanxi. I will destroy the market you all have so carefully created with my capital investments. If even one of you decides to start something with the military or Alliance, I will cut everyone off."

Some of them believed him. Others did not. He did notice that they all were evaluating him. "Fine words to throw around, but I don't feel like you are here for our benefit in the slightest." The gun supplying faction was of course distrustful of him.

"My benefit is continued profits from your trade. My benefit comes from that trade not stopping. So if you go off on your little revolution at the wrong time, where we cannot establish Shanxi quickly enough, then I get nothing for it all. So, you screw with what I built, I'll screw with what you built." Jack sneered at him, and held up a datapad. One of the bartenders quickly appeared to bring it to the offended man of Asian descent.

The only leader to not send a lieutenant looked up to glare at him. Trafficking guns was tricky business, and it wasn't possible without a lot of dealers along the chain. All of whom had to be connected to be able to keep the supply chain going. "How did you get this?"

Jack gave him a glare. "The same way I got your locations. Care, precision, patience. I can, with a single mail message, eliminate every single dealer along your chain of suppliers. You will then last a week before running out of supplies to sell, ammunition prices will skyrocket, and you will eventually be driven into the dredges of society. Your fellows at this table will only profit from your own demise, if you refuse to follow my lead."

Jack pulled out three more datapads. More threatening material. More blackmail. It was easy. Methodically, he could just look for the right weaknesses in every organization, until he found the weak links in the chain. He didn't have to follow any ethics when dealing with these people. They understood the game. The remaining three factions backed down pretty quickly. The faction that refused to attend worried him, though. They were the ones he had to truly convince to back down. They supposedly were the ones in charge of the others. Since they weren't here, he would have to wait.

"As a token of my trust in you, take any bottle of wine you wish before you go. If any of you happen to run in Jing Wu, let her know that I am willing to meet her here any time." There were some twitches, very slight, but the change in posture occurred. Chiyu Wu was supposed to be on earth, as a very senior member of the Reds. She was also a business partner, owning almost all communications hardware in the Asian area on Earth. But she had also made a quiet step back for so called vacation time a month ago. Jack could trace her habits, though. Shanxi showed signs of her being here, investing exactly where he would.

She was also closely related to much of the drug market on Earth, both legal and not so legal. She probably had close ties to the drug markets on Earth's colonies, as well. If she was here, he might have a challenge. Or she was here to stop anything from going out of control. At the table now, he could tell that their distaste for him had only gotten thicker. Then again, he was coming into their space and demanding things of them that they didn't want to give. However, none of them wanted to share any information at this point. Jack was probably considered dangerous, and sharing things with their rivals and partly allies was risky.

It didn't take long for the bar to empty. The open invitation would be fulfilled, he knew. At least one of the leaders that didn't come were going to come back, just to verify what he said, or see what side he was on. He grinned to himself as soon as the bar was mostly empty. Wu would have to meet with him to see what he was up to, and all of the different factions would be at each other's throat soon enough. Jack could handle a little chaos and rumor-mongering. The facts were already there, they just had to be presented in the right light. With any piece of information, how it was presented could turn it into a piece of evidence, or the inspiration for doubt.

He didn't return to his room that night. Instead, he stayed up all through the night, paying attention to the news feeds. He wasn't going to miss is this time. Last time the Turians had invaded Shanxi, the news feeds had been going on nonstop about an alien invasion. The Alliance was in the middle of peacetime and had to mobilize for war with territory already lost to the enemy. This time, Jack was sure that they were going to be a bit better off.

As he thought about that, around four in the morning, he noticed the communications satellite that he was connected to lose signal. He switched to the next one, and that, too, went dark within twenty minutes. Nothing new on the news came as one by one, the communications relays went dark. Jack got a very uncomfortable feeling in his gut as he watched the news feeds die down, until nothing but local channels could connect. Even these started to lose reception, until the low orbit satellites got quiet too.

Jack did not like that one bit. "Hannah!" he shouted. She could be heard in the back room, waking up and getting her gun, Omni-tool, and knife. She never went anywhere without that thing. "All of the comms are down across the colony. Go sneak into the command center and figure out what is going on while I get the rest of our gear somewhere safe."

They were out of time. The Turians were here. Long range missiles and kinetic strikes could take out the communications satellites easily. It was the fact that no one had noticed that troubled him the most. He went outside and immediately got a taxi to head to the space port. The _Talon_ was in its berth, gleaming and perfectly nice looking. Still, there were no alarms that went off. He was sure that the military noticed, or even turned off the communications network themselves.

"James!" He yelled, getting to the berth. In one of the alcoves, James and Amandeep had been using one of the storage rooms. Amandeep was locking one of the storage room doors with a section of wall that could duplicate the walls around it. He had a bit of a tired look on his face.

"Sir, we've got the package you wanted locked away. Why did you want us to hide the storage room? Won't the port authority notice that?"

Jack shook his head. "Not important. The communications satellites just went down. I need you to get the _Talon_ out of here. Get back through the system and stay alive."

"Um, alright." James said, rubbing his eyes from lack of sleep. "Just get on board and we will be on our way, Sir." He would be able to go without sleep if he needed to.

"Sorry, James, but this time I won't be leaving. There are things that need to be done." Jack told him. "I know that I've always told you otherwise, but today, I need you to stay alive. What is about to happen I can survive. You are a bit more vulnerable."

James nodded, a bit worried. Jack retrieved only a couple of things before the _Talon_ left the ground. One was a point to point transmitter. The other was a spare shielded suit. His armor and such was already in the hideout he and Hannah were inhabiting. Another travel bag had some food and water, and other forms of survival gear. Considering that there was a possible revolution going on, it would be excusable to have a few weeks of food stashed away. After the _Talon_ left its berth, Jack placed the transmitter's receiver on the newly covered wall. There was going to be no way to detect it, as there were no outgoing signals. The transmitter could only point to the location, which would require some very delicate climbing to get up the mountain and angle the signal. But, as it was old technology, it was very reliable.

He had to get James and Amandeep out of here. They knew about a few things that Hannah did not, but were unaware of his larger plans like Hannah was. Even though she was probably thinking he was here for more noble reasons. No, there was very little that was noble about this. Sure, in his mind he could tell himself that, but Shanxi was a bloodbath the first time. The second time it would be both worse and better. The defenses would stand up to kinetic bombardment, which means that the Turians would have to invade.

Now, _that_ was going to be bloody. The Turians were efficient, dangerous, and heavily armed and armored. More importantly, they didn't feel bad about calling in kinetic strikes on civilian buildings just because they heard guns from inside it. They kept their 'honor', though. They paid for the rebuilding of Shanxi after everything was said and done. This time Jack aimed to have a little bit more to be proud about.

Getting into a taxi, he messaged Hannah. _Send a report about the Reds and their expected numbers to the Alliance. Mention that all evidence points to them going after the old Tyrrel Headquarters building again. It will need to be reinforced before their tunnels connect to it. They are digging into it, that is for certain. They have the numbers and cunning to avoid all of the reinforced positions on the surface, so they will need at least a battalion stationed inside the building._ He finished typing that, and grinned. That should set at least some of the pieces on the board to survive the initial bombardment. Better yet, keeping everyone in a combat ready state will at least give the Turians a harder time.

But there were too many other players in the game on Shanxi right now. Wu was at the top of his list to contact. He had heard nothing from her, and she was not incredibly forthcoming about her legal businesses either. Hannah might be able to get a signal out while she was in the military base, as their communications were a bit more open to use. As an Alliance agent she would be able to access all of that.

Charles Pressley watched as the relay became active again. The _Kursk_ had regrouped with the local garrison of Shanxi and their five more ships. With seven ships all together, they hoped that they would at least be able to drive off the craft that had been seen. Their weapons were hot, and every single gun in the fleet was aimed at the general few thousand kilometers in front of the relay. Thankfully, Pressley's hot bunk mate had been recognized for disorderly conduct and had been filed up, leaving his shift open. Pressley now got the daytime shift, so it was much nicer for him.

Since he was now the navigation technician, he had a bit more freedom in how he could spend his rack time. Normally during the night shift his rack time would be during the day, so he would have to stay out of the way of the day crew doing their jobs. He didn't have to do much right now, but he had four different courses planned out for the _Kursk_ if things indeed got hairy. Captain Rogers was in his chair, right next to the rest of the bridge crew. Space was a premium on a frigate, and legroom even more so. Pressley was tall enough to hate every doorway in the ship, and to hate how much his seat seemed to just cut off blood circulation.

"Activity at the relay! Something's coming through!" the Lieutenant on duty yelled. "It's the _Cannae_!"

Sure enough, the other frigate they had left behind came through the relay without a scratch. It maintained its speed, though. Rogers wasn't in command of the fleet here, now that they had returned to Shanxi.

"_Cannae, report!_" Came the voice of Commander Madison, the officer in charge of Taurus Station.

"_Sir! The other ships, we can confirm that they have even greater numbers than before! Five more ships joined the other nine on the other side of the relay, and one of them is much larger than the rest. It could be a dreadnaught or carrier, sir._" Thankfully these were emergency conditions, and lines of communication not controlled by the military were being turned off. This might spook the Reds on Shanxi, but it might be more important to keep talk of actual aliens down. That would cause more panic needlessly.

"_Cannae, get into formation with the rest of the patrol. If they come through, we are going to have to hold them off of Shanxi until support arrives. Fleets are being mobilized, but we don't have a timeframe for support within the next twenty hours. So keep everyone ready and remember your training. If things go south we need to keep those craft away from Taurus Station and Shanxi."_

Pressley took a deep breath as Captain Rogers looked down at him. "Do we have an attack vector, Ensign?"

"Yes, sir. I have three prepared and one vector prepared to go back to the fallback point at the Helium refinery." Frigates were not about staying at a distance and slugging things out. They were about getting up into knife-fight range and doing some damage, and then moving on. Frigates didn't survive if they weren't in motion.

Rogers gave him a level look. "Prepare an escape vector for the other relay in system, just in case they completely overwhelm us. We might be facing something too powerful to consider us a threat."

Pressley nodded, calling up the subroutines to plan another route. The rest of the flotilla was breaking up into three squadrons, two groups of frigates and the main pack of cruisers. The voice of the Commander came back over the communications.

"_To all ships. We can expect possible incursion within ten hours. The 43rd Patrol has bought us some time, so let's use it. We can't stop them from coming through the relay, but we will stop them from going anywhere near the other relay in this system as well as Shanxi. The Second Fleet stationed at Arcturus system will be en route once they can pick up their crews." _He paused for a moment, getting everyone to turn towards the comm receiver. "_For all of you who haven't been in a combat situation before, just remember to look to those around you. You have trained for this._"

Charles noticed that a lot of the people were looking at Captain Rogers, who was the only veteran on the ship. He didn't even respond to their looks. Everyone here was new to the Navy. Even those with a few years experience hadn't been in a combat situation yet. All that they had to go on was a few drills and what they were sent through training with.

They had a few moments to think about that when the relay became active again. "Alright all of you. Do your jobs and we will all go home alive." Captain Rogers growled. "Hopefully they will figure out our attempts to contact them and figure themselves out. But once shots are fired, I expect all of you to give them Hell!" Captain Rogers was put on a frigate for a good reason. He was one of the more warlike members of the Navy. But right now, Charles was quite glad he was serving under him. Others were serving under Captains with no experience of combat.

Pressley gulped as he started planning out more escape vectors. Whoever these people were, they were coming in with a weight advantage. And a numbers advantage. As well as a carrier or dreadnaught. They didn't stand a chance of being able to fight that many ships. But if they could just buy enough time, maybe they could just keep everyone from going home in body bags.

"Activity on the Relay!"  
"Turn off the combat alarm, already! Everyone knows what could happen." Roger's voice carried. "Bring us up to full momentum, have the patrol keep speed. If they come out we need to keep them off those cruisers."

Pressley had never gripped something as hard in his life as the aliens surged through the relay. With a push of a button, he highlighted the first attack vector. It would be the best if they were so heavily outnumbered. He ignored the feeling of something trying to come back up his throat and just focused on his job.

Everyone could see the flash as the relay released whatever these people were.

Jack noticed his problems before the news feeds could warn him. He could see it in the clear sky above Shanxi. Fire in the sky, streaks of light as the orbital defenses fell. Taurus Station was going to be able to hold on for a few hours, but as it got hammered it made a pretty light show. Most of the locals thought it was some staged action of some kind. The Reds had been quiet, as he had cautioned them. But before the Turians had made it, another battalion of troops had landed and quartered at Tyrrel Headquarters. Another may have been in transit, and would be good as reinforcements.

Still, the spaceport had been full before the fighting got to Shanxi. None of the ships besides the _Talon_ and a couple of freighters had left before it was too late. Soon the few remaining would have to brave the blockade before trying to escape to the relay or to FTL. He certainly wouldn't be following. The Turians were fast. Their ships emphasized a focus on speed and efficiency, with survivability as a close second. The Asari and Salarians focused more on aesthetic and functional values, leaving the Turians with the front line postings.

He was still holed up in that bar with Hannah. Dingy as it was, no one had come to visit him directly since Some of their agents had come to spy on him or take a look at what he was doing, but that was it. Hannah hadn't come back yet from the military base, which had him a bit worried. It had been almost thirty hours since she went in. Now that the Turians were here, they could start bombarding the planet at any time. Their first target would be that base. He had been drinking a few more cups than normal, and certainly smoking much more heavily. Say what you will, they calmed him down. Lungs could be replaced. He had a good team of doctors for when these lungs gave out or just decided to stop being effective.

The news feeds were still down, and local point to point transmissions could only guess at what might be happening. Attempts to contact the military for information had been met with cold refusals. Jack had been paying close attention to those, and with locals all gabbering about the unnatural lights in the sky, there was nothing being said about the Reds. He could only assume that they were still doing nothing, judging by the ever present spies and observers that frequented his bar. He had to buy it out for his purposes on Shanxi. The original owner had been justly paid for it. Perhaps overpaid, but Jack didn't mind so much.

When he finally saw a shimmer slip through the doorway, Jack made an excuse to move back into the supply room. He left the door open to the upstairs and the main room as well, and watched as the shimmer in the air that was Hannah moved past him and upstairs. He followed, coming up to their insulated walled room and setting up a white noise projector. It disrupted any of the detection equipment that the Reds may have set up.

As soon as it was up, Hannah decloaked. She looked terrible. Wet, her sleeves torn, and some signs of fatigue. But her skin was pale, and she looked like she was in need of some food. Jack immediately threw a blanket over her, and went downstairs to grab some food. Along with her special brand of whiskey. When he got back, Hannah had curled up on the chair, and was sitting at the table. The food was consumed and the brandy was pulled towards her. No cup was needed, as she just took it straight from the bottle.

He waited a few minutes for her to pull herself together, as he already knew what she was going to tell him. "What happened? You were in there for more than a day."

"Exit strategy was lost. Had to wait until the morning shift to get out of the room I was in, and had to escape out the storm drains. It was very cold, thank you for asking." She gave him a small smile. "While I was there, I was able to look at the military communications network. You're not going to believe this, Jack!" She said excitedly. He was of a different opinion. "The ships up there, that are pounding Taurus Station, they are _Alien_." She waved her hands around. "As in real live aliens, here to invade us!"

Jack gave her a serious look, which was actually easier considering how he felt about the Turians. "That sounds preposterous."

"I'm telling you! What group out there has the numbers and firepower to completely drive off the Alliance fleet from Shanxi, and field fourteen ships?" She gave him a grin as the warmth from the blanket(One of the ones with built-in warming pads) spread to her shoulders. "They came from the other side of that new relay and have a top speed 40% better than the best that we can field."

That was enough to convince Jack Harper last time. But he needed methodical evidence. He was a paranoid person, and just accepting this wasn't in his built up style. "So, fourteen ships, did you record their details and images? Or were you not able to access their systems?"

Hannah held up an OSD. "Figured you would demand proof. I have it all, including their communications with us. If you could call whatever that was communications. Sounds more like chirping mixed with New Era Rock." She slid it across the table to him, where he opened up a datapad and immediately began reading. The Turians were unfortunately very reliable in their fleet patrols and who commanded them. In this instance, it was reliable enough that even with them being discovered six years early, the patrol commander was still the same Turian admiral. He still had a dreadnaught. He could take out Tyrrel Headquarters with that ship alone. The rest of the Turian fleet was there as well, but there were only twelve ships. Looks like the Alliance had managed to destroy a couple. Looking closer, he could see a couple more ships showing signs of damage control teams being active on them.

It was the only time that the Turians turned on the exterior lights. They had excellent vision, but once in space suits their vision was limited. Their eyes were more like those of a bird, and didn't deal with lenses or glass very well. Exterior lights were run so that the damage control teams could see what they were doing on the surface of their craft.

There were hundreds of photos here, taken by the military. "Does anyone know you have this?"

Hannah shrugged. "The security was poor on that part of the base. If anyone figures things out from the logs, it will implicate the ensign who was working that station and accidentally left himself logged in." He gave a grin. Hannah probably just logged back in as him after he left. She still hadn't found some of his stashes of information, as he was paranoid beyond belief that she could possibly find out his passwords. She was smart, after all.

"I can't discount that these _might_ be alien in origin. The language printing on the sides, the shape and general focus of their design, it is similar enough that they could have been produced in some military shipyard we don't know about. If it wasn't for their technical specs being so much higher than what I am aware of the Alliance being able to produce, I would discount this as some group trying to cause trouble." He glanced up at her. "Do we know what they look like?"

"Not really, no." She said. "I was able to monitor their communications, but the fact is that they are shooting at us, and the military have been quiet about all of this. They set up the block on all communications as soon as their ships came back from sighting the ships." Thirty six hours. The Turians had been in town for thirty six hours and they had already gotten to Shanxi. Last time, the Alliance had been able to hold them off for a few weeks. Six years early made all the difference.

"So right now, they are going after Taurus Station." He said. The light show had intensified in the last hour, as he could see out the window.

"Yes. It is holding, and is staying in orbit, but they don't see any way of saving the people onboard if things continue. When things get bad, they are going to try to send people in escape pods down to the surface." The total population onboard the station was six thousand people. Mostly military or related. Getting them into escape pods would be difficult. There were maybe enough pods for a thousand people if they squeezed in.

"Did these aliens show any interest in our ships? How many of our ships survived?" Human technology had better computer systems, after all. The Turians only got ahead last time when they deciphered the human operating systems.

"We were fine, and our seven ships held off sorties through the relay that lasted a few hours. Sorties went back and forth as vessels on both sides let off heat. But then they brought some bigger ship through." Hannah said, as if from memory. The dreadnaught must have been called up, and from there it wouldn't be long for any human ship to be able to hold up against it. "After that we lost the two cruisers, but the frigates escaped. So the five of those ships got through the relay leading to Arcturus, and from there we started losing communication buoys. The cruiser pieces were bypassed so far as I was able to see. They just came after the buoys and Taurus."

Jack gave a show of thinking, taking the opportunity to refill his glass and take a drink out of comfort rather than worry. Hannah had scared him a little bit. Her being out of contact for so long had been a terrible sign. "So, if they are going after all of the defenses in system, then the next objective would be this planet, then." He made a motion to Hannah. "Then we can't wait here while they get into position."

She saw him gathering their three duffel bags together. "Where do you plan on going?"

He gave her a small smile. "The same place I planned on retreating to if the Reds were going to rise up. The only place on this planet that can withstand orbital bombardment." He came over to the table and made sure she had gotten enough to eat. "I designed it that way in the first place, but now it seems that my original investment won't be necessary."

"What did you think you would need it for?" She asked, slightly more curious about that.

"I planned the revolution here. I planned for a possible end where the military would retreat there from possible ship bombardment from Red ships.

He disengaged the white noise projector at that point. Hannah, now warm and ready to leave, got up and came downstairs with him. When he got to the bar, it had filled up with a few more people. Almost all of which noticed him coming into the room with Hannah. Some even turned towards him.

"Harper." A clear voice came from one of the tables. His eyes narrowed, going through the table until he found the speaker. He could see the people at the table were all of Asian descent, but all of them were hulking brutes. Sitting among them was what could be the only female in the room, excluding Hannah. She was a bit more haggard than Jack normally expected her to be, but the conditions were like that.

"Wu. Glad to see you finally showed up." He dismissed her. He didn't bring any toughs or guns. Hannah was what he had, and she was dangerous, but she couldn't take five men with shotguns.

"Harper, I know you moved your ship out of the spaceport before they locked it down."

She said, from within her circle of protective guards. "You plan on getting out of here at some point."

"And you want a ride." He finished for her. Wu either hadn't gotten the support she needed from the Reds or didn't want to expose any of their hidden ships. If they even had any left at this point. "I don't have any plans to leave for a while yet. Considering that my ship is currently in Arcturus picking up supplies, and there appears to be some sort of space battle above us, I doubt that it will be able to return."

"Who is fighting up there?" Asked one of the other observers. Hannah almost was boring holes into him. She did not want him revealing secrets that she had risked her life for to some lowlives in a dingy bar. _His_ dingy bar, to be fair.

"The Reds as far as I am aware of do not possess a fleet capable of beating off an Alliance patrol, so the fleet up there pounding Taurus Station is anything but friendly to the Alliance. There are no pirates in our section of the galaxy that can content with the same problem, leaving a lot of questions. Unless you have some friends up there, of course." He said. He did not want to mention alien invaders to half of Shanxi's active factions.

Chiyu Wu gave him a look of extreme distaste. "You and I both know that the Reds are not prepared for such an action. Nor would they use such a fleet blatantly." She made a distinction that separated her from the Reds. Very peculiar. "How much would it cost to have your ship get us out?"

Jack just let out a belly laugh. He had to offend her or get her out of here. Chiyu had a significant market value that shouldn't be lost, even if everyone knew she was a dirty businesswoman. Proving it was hard, as much of China was controlled by their business conglomerates as much as their vaunted Communist party. She was in both. "I have no idea who is up there. I won't bring my yacht, which has no reliable ability to avoid Alliance patrols," not to mention he knew that the Alliance had placed a tracking device on her somewhere. "and risk losing it as well as the millions of credits of investment that you represent as well when we try to escape the blockade."

Chiyu did not like his answer. "Of all the people here, you are the only one who has the ability to escape this planet. You must have some sort of a plan."

Jack took out a pistol, and held out his hand to Hannah. She reached into her purse, and his Lancer I assault rifle unfolded into his hand. That got the attention of everyone in the bar. But it was his bar, and it was his rules. No one shot anyone else as a reply. He just laid out both extended weapons on the table. "My plan is simple. I came prepared to stage a revolution of some kind. Whether I have to help or not. I removed anything I felt uncomfortable losing. As such, I don't have an escape plan. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to go figure out exactly what is going on. I'll return to this bar when I have more information."

The weapons were returned to their previous locations, earning a new respect for Hannah, whose usual secretary persona was ignored as a general rule. Grabbing his duffel bags, he gave a nod the Chiyu and went out of the door. He didn't have long before the Turians would take Taurus Station, and begin their assault. He hailed a taxi and told them to drive to Tyrrel Headquarters. It had only just been repaired from the damage done 18 months ago. Now, it had been reinforced and turned into a fortress.

So as to not cause unnecessary trouble, it was now simply labeled as a military base. Tyrrel was still what everybody called it, even if the company had gone under all those months ago. The new blueprints Jack had not been able to get his hands on. That would have been suspicious. Especially if he sold it to the Reds or something like that. Jack simply wanted leverage. Hannah did poke him in the shoulder to draw him out of his musings.

"You really came to stage a revolution?"

He snorted. "No, nothing of that nature. I got much more out of that conversation than she did. Chiyu is not being endorsed by the Reds, which is why she was looking for a quick extraction. We didn't see any response from the Red's strongest faction, which is worrisome but now with different conditions, is no longer is relevant. What these aliens are here for is up for debate. Extermination, Exploitation, Expansion. For all we know it might be some sort of race based on enslavement of others." She gave him a bit of a terrified look.

"So, what can you do with aliens on your doorstep and the Alliance Fleet in retreat, with the threat of invasion hanging over you?" She asked carefully.

"Give out some advice, inform the military of the exact position of the underground tunnels, as well as who they need to get in contact with in the Reds to start fighting back. The way I see it, any invasion would have trouble overcoming a determined military and paramilitary response. So, right now I am going to go and offer to be a liaison between the military, under General Williams,"

"Who you just had shot at," She snarked.

"and the Reds, as well as the independent faction that is related to Chiyu." He finished, ignoring her comment.

"Well, what are we waiting for? You can offend a few more people today." She said, as the taxi stopped in front of the mountainside fortress. What was once gentle contours and clean lines had been completely transformed. The Alliance had lost hundreds of marines taking this building, and once they turned it into their own, it was even more fortified. Every contour had been turned into fortified walkways, layered plating that could resist even the hardiest ground based weapons.

The gatehouse, for example, had been a relatively simple precaution for Tyrrel. Now it was a double checkpoint pillbox, with a modern, at least for 2151, heavy tank. It's large bore cannon was intimidating, but he didn't mind it. It would probably be destroyed by kinetic bombardment before it would ever get used. But for now it was comforting to see such a fine display of the military might of the Alliance here.

As they walked forward, they were stopped by a full squad of marines. Their weapons were up, and one of them had a metal detector as well as some other sensor equipment. "Halt! This is a restricted area!"

Jack put down his duffel bag and motioned for Hannah to do the same. The detector lit up with reports of the armor and weapons inside the bag. That of course got the soldier's attention. "I am here to speak with General Williams."

"Denied. No civilians are allowed past this point." The soldier didn't seem to care, but the presence of weapons in the bag did make him at least willing to listen.

"My name is Jack Harper. You can tell him that I am the one who financed half of this building. Technically, this is my property, but was seized due to the problems with Tyrrel." The soldier was quite unmoved. "What I am here to offer is the information on all of the underground tunnels that the Shanxi Reds have dug, as well as their numbers and strength. Considering that we appear to be in the middle of something of a crisis, I offer these services in exchange for my protection."

The officer had to think very carefully on that. "Give me a minute to check with my superior. Don't move." He stepped back to communicate with whoever was going to be Jack's next target of disdain. The rest of his squad kept their weapons up and mostly focused on Hannah. One man had his sights on Jack, while the other three were focused on Hannah. He just relaxed. There was only one way that this would end, and that was with him meeting the General over some of the expensive brandy he had in his bag.

He only had to wait five minutes. The officer came back, looking about the same level of grumpy. "My superior wants to talk to you. But you have to leave your secretary and bags here."

Jack held up one hand as arrogantly as he could. Which created an intense look of distaste. "I brought all of my personal arms and armor, as well as hers. Included in those bags are things bought from the Black Market to assist in my evidence and presentation of the information you'll need. My secretary is actually an Alliance Intelligence Agent that is attached to me to secure my protection." He said, with no emotion displayed. They of course didn't believe him, prompting an even greater response.

They wanted to search their bags, and Jack refused. They were still on civilian property and had their rights. So Jack was grinning heartily when finally their superior had to come out and take a look at things. He was not the kind of person Jack expected. Coming out in full blue dress uniform, and without a scar covering most of his face, was the General. Thick, corded neck muscles on top of wide shoulders made the General stand out from the rest of his soldiers.

The array of medals did as well. Jack was familiar with him from the post-war pictures. Dejected, broken, and scarred. That was the General he was familiar with. The unsullied man before him was unnerving to say the least. Without the shame of his defeat, the man certainly maintained a presence.

"Jack Harper. I was expecting you days ago." He grunted. "I received notification about your ship landing here and thought you would be right over." He did not appear amused to be talking to him. "But as long as you were just here for whatever business you are involved in, I was unconcerned. Now, I have to be. What brings you here?"

Jack was able to recover his resolve as he spoke. "I have everything you need to solve your problems, and then some."

"My problems? Solved by a businessman?" Williams laughed about that. "I doubt you have any solutions that would benefit the Alliance more than your pocket."

Jack let him laugh. He just grinned in the most predatory way possible. "Hannah, please show him the next generation of Alliance Special Forces."

Hannah gave him a long look, which he only nodded at. She placed her purse on the ground, and gave the surrounding soldiers a small glance. Then she cloaked. For most of humanity, this was not an unexpected development. Invisibility had been one of their most important goals in experimentation. Actually being confronted with someone who could do such was another thing entirely.

The soldiers immediately brought their guns to bear, looking for any sign of Hannah. When she showed back up, with her trusty knife at the neck of the officer who first confronted them, all of the soldiers were surprised. They hadn't heard or seen the shimmer move. General Williams was looking at Hannah with an almost appreciative look. "Alright, Mr. Harper. You have my attention." He slowly said, considering Hannah.

She let go of the marine, patting him on the shoulder as her knife disappeared into a hidden sheathe somewhere. She walked back to where her purse and duffel bag were, and gently picked them both back up. Jack picked up his bags. "I would prefer to speak of this in a more private setting, then." He motioned to the surrounding soldiers. "Too many loose mouths here. To the earlier display I must remind all of you that knowledge of this new program is to be kept secret. No one will believe you and the Intelligence Office will find ways of convincing you to remain quiet if you think otherwise."

Williams didn't comment on anything until they had entered the bottom floor of the base and stepped into a lift. "So, this is why I received a warning about you the moment you entered the system."

Jack didn't care what Ross was telling people. "Technically not. The system is a prototype, that was only successfully developed within the last few months. Hannah hasn't presented it to her superiors yet." He did take the time to light a cigarette, which made the VI of the base send a small warning to the elevator. Williams declined to comment, so Jack offered him one. It was taken without any trouble, other than Hannah rolling her eyes. "The reason you got a warning is because Ross believes I am associated with the Reds."

"Are you associated with them?"

"Until this week, not directly, no. But I did come to Shanxi to stop them from starting a revolution." Williams raised an eyebrow. "Did Ross not include my history in the report? How careless of her. Now I have to explain more that you'll have to confirm before you extend any trust towards me."

"I can verify if you trust my word," Hannah said. "I am his attache, from Intelligence."

"More like my observer and tracker." Jack said. The elevator opened and released them onto a small set of hallways. General Williams led them to a small conference room that had no windows or technology to interface with. Probably a safe room for more friendly interrogations.

"Jack Harper, suspected of investing into the insurgent group known as the Reds. Suspected of illegally supplying political funding, suspected of embezzling millions of credits from his own companies. Has an extremely good team of lawyers." Williams said, reading off of a datapad. "Now you are offering advice that proves at least one of these correct."

Jack glanced at the pad. "Partially true, Prove to me that it wasn't legal at the time, My partners are jealous, and one hundred percent true." He replied to the accusing document, probably written by Ross and influenced by Reid's greed. "I have contacts within the Reds that have done business with me in the past, who I was here contacting and dragging to the bargaining table. I have no interest in letting Shanxi fall, not after I personally invested so much in it. So, General, I hear that you have a bit of an invasion problem."

He grunted. "Figures that you would go to the Reds to use their equipment to find out what is going on."

"Well, I don't know about you, but the chirping/snarling sounds I'm hearing don't sound fabricated." He claimed. Hannah looked calm, considering that she was the one who stole all of this information. "Nor do the reports of the local Alliance fleet falling back, and I can see Taurus Station getting hammered with my own eyes." He wasn't going to tell them that he was fluent in Turian. There were some months yet that he could accomplish that. Asari he would have to 'learn' again later. It was easier, but the Turian was more important at the time, as they had been at war. "It sounds like you have an alien problem."

"Which begs the question as to why you are here, then."

"I happen to know all of the different people in charge of the Reds in the city. If we are about to be invaded, they deserve to know. Plus, who would know the city better, or be able to fight off an invading force better?" Jack brought up a datapad, sliding it over to Williams. "They have tunnels, deep enough to be safe from kinetic strikes. You can move people and weapons through these easily, as long as you meet them at the bargaining table."

"We don't bargain with terrorists." Williams offered, though he did honestly consider it. "Even in the face of alien invasion."

"Even if the terrorists planted an old hydrogen bomb in the space port?" He said, watching as Hannah and the General gave him looks of incredulity. "Which will be the first place that the alien invaders will land. If you want the Reds to react to their invasion with nuclear fire, then you can do nothing." Jack motioned to the bags he brought with him. "But, if you bring them to the table, they can be convinced to not do that. They might even compromise on their revolution. In the face of the alien threat, you could come together and prove that Humanity can hold out against them."

"Where did they get a nuke?" He asked, blinking. "Surely they couldn't be that desperate."

Hannah was surprised at that revelation, too. She should be. The man who sold him this was long dead. Jack had bought this almost nine years before, from some unreputable chap from Saudi Arabia. He hadn't survived the day. Jack had made sure of it, as ownership of nuclear weapons was still looked down upon. The few owned by the Alliance were going to be used on probes sent to scout Turian space. Jack had gotten ahold of one last time using Cerberus connections. He hadn't needed to use it, but having it was a nice ace in the hole. Not having to spend money on large explosives was an even nicer benefit.

"Same place most people get them. Black markets, other locations where illegal goods can be found. Like this one." He slid the now-infamous phasic ammo block to General Williams. "One of the Reds decided to test their ammunition on you. This can get past shields." Jack saw his eyes narrow on the block. "A certain percentage of the shot is sacrificed to allow some of it to get through. A second shield in the path of the bullet causes an exponential drain upon the power of the shot. As you are still here, I see that you didn't get picked off by some amatuer."

General Williams picked up the ammo block, looking it over carefully for identification signs and such. Not finding any, he just put it off to one side. "So, Mr. Harper, anything else you want to bring up? Secret tunnels, a nuke, all useful things right now. If these aliens are as bad as I think they will be, I might not mind someone nuking them."

"You've watched the vids, general. What we imagine to be aliens are usually not capable of strategic calculations. These seem a bit more like us, judging by their ship and fleet configurations. Would it be safe to assume that their ground forces could follow the same logic?" Jack offered.

"We have already come to that conclusion. Their ships, built along the lines that they are, assume that these creatures are bipedal. Or they are using Prothean designs. It appears that our own design structure, reverse engineered from them, determined the shape of our ships. Theirs follow the same forms that we ourselves reverse engineered. They are obviously further along in the engineering process, so we can expect reasonably the same tactics and technology."

"But, you have no idea how far along they will be in that technology, or how powerful their infantry based kinetic barriers will be." Jack noted. "Or if the race has a physical structure that makes them extremely hard to physically put down. As such, I offer the best that the Alliance has." Jack turned to Hannah, who looked a bit surprised. "She has the ability to cloak, and can carry a weapon with her. She cannot use kinetic barriers or armor while doing so, but she is very effective with that knife of hers. When the aliens land, I only ask that you send her where you need help the most."

Hannah was honestly surprised. She wasn't a frontline soldier in any sense of the word. Her only defensive ability was to cloak, and to have that she gave up kinetic barriers and armor. Well, she could engage barriers but it would for certain disrupt her cloak. Or make it impossible to engage until the barrier had been disabled.

"Harper, are you telling me that you want this secretary on the front lines?" He then turned to Hannah. "No offence, ma'am."

"None taken." She replied. "I don't see myself as a soldier in that sense, either."

Jack kept his smirk up, even though inside he wished that Hannah had a spine. That was what Greg was supposed to give Shepard. Hannah didn't quite have the same fire in her heart that he did. Their child had both the fire and the logic from Hannah. Jack had to somehow create that fire in Julia if there was to be any hope for the Human race. Miranda would be a secondary choice. She was going to be the biotic that Subject Zero had never been. Considering that he had all of the information and research that Cerberus had bled for in his memories, creating the perfect biotic would be easy.

He gave both Hannah and Williams a large grin. "Well, as much as you might disagree, Hannah, you are the best we have. Our soldiers are all carrying Aramax armors, They are shoddy at best, as you well know, General. We can safely say that our soldiers will need at least two to one odds to get past the deficiencies in their armor. Not to mention whatever problems we may have with the weapons the troops have." Williams was glowering. "So, General. Hannah has the ability to avoid their notice, and get behind enemy lines. She has all of the training to get through unfamiliar data systems. If they are truly based of of the Protheans, then she will have a chance to get you intel on the enemy."

Hannah didn't show any emotional response to this. She could think logically. She knew where this was going, and more importantly, would know what was next.

"I get that she is an asset. But i can't trust you on just that, Harper. Not when you have obvious ties to the Reds." Williams noted.

"Then let her prove herself. Send her to do something that your soldiers never could." Jack offered, inside knowing all along that he would win this little bet. Hannah might not have enough spine for his tastes, but she had logic and intelligence in spades. "She is the best that Humanity can offer to your cause. Currently she is the only one who can cloak, but after this I believe that you'll be finding a few more willing to undergo the process."

"Is that what you want? For the Alliance to use you for that?" Williams asked, and Hannah looked almost ready to agree with him.

"No. What I want is for the Alliance to become the power it is meant to be. If anything, I will most likely lose most of my position in the economy over backlash I will receive from your superiors as well as the Reds. My profits will not skyrocket from the development of better special forces agents. The technology to create them and improve them will be my focus. Hannah has also received gene mods for extended stamina, strengthened muscle tissues, and greater night vision. She will be able to puncture a set of armor with her knife, all while remaining invisible. So long as her skin doesn't come in contact with a kinetic barrier or something that can disrupt her cloak, she should be able to sneak right up to the enemy."

"Assuming they don't have some sort of echolocation or heightened senses that could find me." Hannah noted.

"Just get some scent removal spray-" Jack started saying, when the base rumbled. All of them looked around at the walls, the old familiar terror coming back. He had survived the Turians in his memories, and he would survive them this time as well. Williams got up and ran for the door, bellowing orders and moving. Jack stayed where he was. That was a strike nearby, but not direct. The lights weren't even shaking. Hannah had wide eyes, though.

"Jack, I never wanted this." She said.

"You want your old position back? This was supposed to be simpler. You go and kill each of the Red's leaders and stop the revolution before it could begin, thereby saving the Alliance singlehandedly. You then become the most desired agent that they can field, and they will have no choice but to use you. I never planned on you being a soldier, but right now this is the best chance we have to get you back into their good graces."

"You were going to have me assassinate those people?" Hannah seemed to be alright with that, more so than being in a battlefield.

"Along with Chiyu Wu. Removal of their leaders would throw their plans into ruin, and create rifts and power vacuums at the time where their revolution would have begun. Disorganization would have led to their complete defeat. Now, though, we have to take advantage of the situation. You will need to take advantage of the situation." Not to mention her training and his modifications made her the perfect agent to fight the Turians. He just had never told her that. Her skills would determine much of what he would be able to do in the future. But as of now, she was technically expendable.

He thought about that. In his memories, everything was expendable as long as the mission was completed. Now though, he didn't have a gigantic paramilitary organization. Every single person he had working for him was worth more than any mission or goal he could send them on. With that in mind, he amended that thought. Hannah was not and never could be expendable, even if that goal was worth it to the rest of Humanity.

She herself was quiet, probably preparing herself mentally for what she would have to do. "What do you think they'll send me after?"

"Technology. Weapons. Explosives. Anything that they can analyze and engineer an answer to quickly and efficiently. They will be looking for anything that can help with the war effort. Biological samples, information, anything that might tell us about how to kill them."

She nodded. That at least made sense. They didn't have to wait long. Williams sent a marine down to their conference room. He came to the door and saluted Hannah, and nodded at Jack. Civilian and special agent both stood up. "The General has requested your presence on the command bridge."

Jack straightened his always-impeccable suit and moved to follow. Hannah could be easily heard behind them, though that wouldn't apply for long. She would be getting into her stealth gear before long, which generated plenty of static electricity for her recharge speed. He also had a large batch of batteries in her bag just for this invasion. It did create an interesting history when someone is buying bags of helium-3 batteries and nothing for them to go ito. Jack had a large pile of compatible technology to cover these purchases.

As they got to the bridge, which was at the very bottom of the base, Jack could see that they had converted one of the vehicle bays into it. Large haptic interfaces covered the surface of a real-time colony hologram. Dots marked enemy and allied forces. There were very few red dots on the ground as of yet, but there were a lot of Green and yellow dots. From experience he knew that yellow meant wounded or down on the field. Already there were more than a few yellow dots around the spaceport.

General Williams was sitting next to the haptic interface that directed the anti-air batteries. There were more than a few getting taken out by the Turian's bombardment. The General already was losing a lot of his defenses and they hadn't even been fighting an hour yet. When Jack walked in, the General waved him over to the command table.

"I need the comm number for your allies. Before they take out the com towers groundside." He told Jack. Jack just grinned. They needed all the help that they could get. The Reds wouldn't hold back in the face of invasion.

"Of course. I suppose that they'll need some sort of liaison to communicate with you. As such, I nominate myself."

For those who didn't know Jack, that came off as arrogant and self-centered. The reason behind that was very clear. People react to offensive self-sustaining statements in three ways. They assume that you are joking, they take it poorly, or they ignore you. Due to the professionalism of the Alliance military, none of them seemed to care except the officers, who were allowed to have an opinion about how things were run. Williams didn't seem to take offense to it, probably guessing that Jack would be a better assist if he were doing something constructive. Or at least that is what Jack wanted to believe when he didn't contest it.

"Ms. Shepard. Or Agent, if you prefer." He said, ignoring Jack. "I need you to go and get something for me. We need a working computer or data source from them. My frontlines describe them as bipedal, with large conical heads. Or at least what they can see. They also describe them as wearing long helmets, equipped with strong rifles and some heavier weapons so far. What we need are some details about them. Something more than what we might get from their corpses."

Hannah gave him a short look. "Just point me in the right direction, then. I'll bring back something." Williams grinned. He apparently could trust her. Jack was of course, not trusted at all. But that was normal. It was comfortable, at least.

Two Hours Later

Allison Hannah Shepard hadn't been in a live fire exercise since basic training. Her heart rate was up, and she could safely say that she was terrified. She didn't have any armor. One stray shot would be enough to kill her. There were plenty of those. The spaceport had been completely overrun by some sort of aliens with similar bone structure to humans. They had legs that functioned like a human's but had some sort of spikes or bone structure that came off the calf and angled upwards. She couldn't count on their knees to be a target, as the armor was thicker there.

Their arms were humanoid, but only had three fingers. Their shoulders were wide, and a large bone structure went around the back of their necks. That meant that it would be difficult to get a good hold. Or perhaps it would give her an easy hold. Testing that would be risky. At least their necks and faces were open enough. Their helmets were set up as if they had two or four eyes, and meant that they would have a narrow field of vision. Perhaps if their helmets were set up correctly, they might have one hundred and eighty degree vision. Or more, if cameras were involved. Among humans their eyes were just not suited to handle more than that in terms of vision.

So, that left her combat options to shooting at them, or getting into knife range. Neither was preferred. So she moved from piece of cover to piece of cover, avoiding any signs of battle. She saw some corpses of their side, being looked over by these aliens. There were no signs of casualties on their side, or at least none that she could see still here. They had shuttles coming down and leaving every few seconds. They hadn't landed anything larger, and they didn't have any vehicles on the ground yet. The wrecked hulks of a few tanks from their side were around, but they looked like they had been destroyed by air strikes rather than troops carrying heavy weapons.

The spaceport was heavily damaged. The parked ships had all been damaged or destroyed. Probably sabotaged or hacked already. She momentarily considered taking off with one of them and making for the relay, but shook it off. She would never make it. None of these were as fast as the _Talon_, and Jack had mentioned in passing that its top speed was not even close to what the alien ships could do.

That gave her an idea, though. The Alliance needed all of the intelligence they could get. If she could steal one of their ships, that would be a treasure trove of technology and usable intelligence. There was no way of any human masquerading as any of these people, though. Any ships she could steal alone were in the small shuttle class. Fighters, too short range and not enough technological value. A shuttle, though, it might have information on it. Shuttles could use the relays, and had large enough spaces that they could carry some decent amount of equipment.

Some shuttles were marked in different colors. Different ships, perhaps? Vivid greens and reds were marked on the shuttles. One shuttle had blue marks on it, and the others moved out of the way of it. Seemed important. She didn't want an important shuttle. She preferred one of the slower moving ones. Between the green and red colors, she decided on the red. Those shuttles moved much slower than the green ones. Or at least she thought that. It was hard to tell. She gripped one of the batteries that she had been given for the trip. Gripping it tightly, she started moving carefully towards their designated landing zones. The shuttles would touch the ground for a few seconds, drop off troops or supplies, and take off.

She picked on of the supply shuttles. They landed further back, and weren't as observed. She was able to get close using the old drain system for the ever present rain and snow that came down on Shanxi. She noted that happened a lot lately. Getting out of the military base sucked. Sliding her way out a storm drain and cutting her way through one of the security hatches(it wasn't the first time it had been used for such) had been horrible. Especially when only hours later she and Jack had come in through the front door.

Jack wasn't at the top of her list right now. He had requested that she risk her life spying on the military, only to turn around and send her out after the aliens! All without more than a few hours of sleep. Even that was more of an accident than anything else. She had just taken a few minutes to sit down and it had turned into a few hours. She decided not to mention that to him, anyways.

So now she was crawling through another storm drain. She had never considered herself vain, but there was a certain level of satisfaction to having a clean pair of clothes and not a single bit of dirt under your nails. Thankfully, as long as she kept the mud off of her pants it wouldn't disrupt her cloak too badly. If she didn't trudge through standing water that would help too. So, much of the next few minutes, she had to tiptoe her way down the pipes. The aliens didn't have anyone patrolling yet, as the lines of combat were still being established.

She abused that privilege, and made it to where the supply shuttles were landing without having to cloak every ten seconds. Still, she had to wait for a shuttle to come down, with the mud and snow being sprayed up every time one of the shuttles touched down. That would disrupt the cloaking system. So, she had to be very specific on the timing. When one of the longer red shuttles landed, she waited for its engines to turn off. The back door of the shuttle opened, and inside she could see lines of boxes. All were marked in some different script, almost like it was scratch marks. Really formal and well formed scratch marks, but it looked like they dragged their fingers over the ship. Or claws, whatever they were.

One of the aliens came from inside the shuttle and walked down to the back, snarling something to the other two that were on the landing pad. What was interesting was that he was not wearing a helmet. Instead, the alien was wearing some sort of visor. Their faces were scaled, and they had some sort of color on them. Natural or artificial she didn't know, and the mouth structure was mostly human, minus some sort of large prongs or facial spikes coming off the cheeks. They only had two eyes, set deep into their face like a bird. They had to rotate their head to see more than one hundred and twenty degrees, so that was a plus. Humans had better range of vision.

She ignored any further checking of the alien's face, as the two at the landing pad started unloading the boxes. Hannah held onto her battery, looking at the charge meter to guess how much time she had. A few minutes at best. She moved forward quickly, stepping lightly behind the two aliens moving one of the longer crates. The alien without a helmet was moving back towards the cockpit of the shuttle, which only had one seat. He was sitting down in it already, pulling out the control sticks to guide it. They looked like something easy enough. Pulling up on the stick would send the craft down, and the opposite. She could tell because of the way that the alien pilot's arm was tensed on the control arm. He was ready to take off at any moment.

A pity for him that it wouldn't happen. She brought out one of her favorite devices. An automatic zip-tie. It was simple, deceptively so. Once you get it around something, it tightens until it cannot tighten any more. Since this alien wasn't wearing a helmet, she decided that he would learn about how they worked personally. With a nasty snap, she let the zip-tie come around his scaly neck and choke him out. She pulled him off to the side, noting that their hips and weird bone structure created a need for deep bucket seats. She decidedly didn't like them.

What happened next she was not particularly proud of. She had to put the choking alien on the ground, and then proceeded to take off. All of the unsecured boxes started flying around in the rear compartment, causing the shuttle to nearly tip over as she tried to clear the nearby houses. She didn't, taking the shuttle down the main road and dragging the back end, creating sparks and all kinds of terrible noise as the shuttle moved. Anytime she tried to move higher, though, she felt the shuttle unbalance. She didn't know how to close the back doors, nor did she know how to control the throttle other than by guessing. The big green handle in the middle did the trick, though. Her first attempt at turning destroyed the local Nordstrom. Not that bad of a strike, but it showed that the shuttle was durable.

One of the dresser racks that she got hooked on stayed attached after she leveled out on Main street, driving towards the Tyrrel Headquarters. Small arms fire began pelting her newly stolen shuttle immediately. Thankfully none of the air defense towers responded. Her horrible driving showed she was no alien. Speaking of which, she had to reach out and grab the sliding unconscious alien before he died. If he slid out the back, well that would be annoying after the trouble she had gone through to get him.

The gatehouse of the military base was long gone, taken out by kinetic strikes. She landed with all the grace of a rock in the main assembly area. The shuttle slid almost a hundred feet before _crunching_ against the walls of the base. She was roughly thrown from the seat, getting crushed against the dashboard. She blamed the lack of armor for her coming bruises.

It took her a minute to get up, but by that time Alliance Marines had already boarded the craft and were ready to shoot anything that moved.

"Hey!" She yelled from the cockpit. "I brought back a live one!"

The stunned looks of the soldiers made her annoyed. They were supposed to have some level of professionalism. On the other hand, stealing a shuttle from the enemy and then riding it home was sort of epic. No one had done that before, she supposed. The soldiers were still staring at the beaten up shuttle and the weird script. As well as the large bloodstain on the wall. Huh. That wasn't there when she took off. One of those loaders must have gotten crushed by one of the crates when it came loose.

She reached underneath the dashboard and dragged out the alien she had caught. He was bleeding from his forehead, and his visor had cracked. Too bad, it looked quite useful. "Ma'am, are you Agent Shepard?" One of the officers asked, apparently in communication with the central command structure.

"Yes. I was tasked with fetching some technology. Now let's get this inside before they find out that we stole one of their shuttles." She started dragging the downed alien forward when she noticed that he had a small wristband. It was extremely similar to the one she herself was wearing, her Omni-tool. So, she slipped it off the alien's wrist and put it into her pocket. She understood those things better than anyone else on this planet at this point. Other than maybe Jack, who knew enough to manipulate their code somewhat. He was tricky with that sort of thing, or at least he knew enough to be considered some sort of secretive programmer.

She let the soldiers carry the alien off, as she watched a cargo lifter come over to the shuttle to drag it away. She just found reason to grin at all of this. Though some of the soldiers were giving her weird looks. Not the kind of looks she had been normally getting, from those across the business table, but the kind of look that was jealousy. That was _awesome_. Soldiers were jealous of her.

She gave all of them a smirk that could piss off Jack Harper, and then engaged her cloak. Word had definitely got around the base about her already, judging by the looks people were giving. So she just took her sweet time and followed the soldiers carrying the alien. The shuttle was, well, ruined. It wouldn't fly again. The right wing section was crumpled, and the back was scraped.

She shrugged. Not her problem if they made seats and controls that didn't work with human hands too well. She just followed one of the officers into the command bridge, where she walked up to the table. Jack was off to one side, arguing with someone over the communication lines.

"No, dammit! I am telling you, either act now or watch as you all become slaves or worse of some alien!" Jack seemed to listen for a moment to whatever they were saying. "I know you don't have enough armor. The military won't have enough bodies to fill theirs soon enough!" Apparently diplomacy with the Reds wasn't going well.

General Williams was still at the table, eyeing the battle closely. Red parts of the city echoed where their soldiers had been forced to pull back. There were a lot more dots that showed casualties than when she was here earlier. Not wanting to throw him off too much, she decided to move back to the door and decloak there. He was a highly decorated military man, and might just appreciate the respect.

The guards at the door were skittish, of course. They reacted poorly. They drew guns on her, which she ignored. Jack of course noticed her. He was good at noticing her. Williams just grinned.

"Ah! You brought me a gift, I see."

"He shouldn't be too messed up. Though he did lose oxygen for a little bit." She said. "Though he also had an Omni-tool," She held it up for emphasis, "which I would love to dig into with Jack's help. He also had some sort of visor technology and there were still two crates in the shuttle when I stole it. Hopefully that helps."

Williams smiled. "First bit of good news I've heard all day. The next bit won't be so hard. I have reports of an alien attack force that is out of position. I want you to go and start-"

A loud alert went through the base, making him stop talking. "What the hell was that?"

"Was that the bomb?" Was William's reaction. He was busy looking at the battle map, which had stopped updating.

Jack came up to the table, adjusting his lapels. "That was the bomb. A modified hydrogen bomb created by the old superpowers of the 2020's."

Hannah just felt weak. The Reds decided to _nuke_ the aliens. That was just stupid. General Williams was faster on the uptake, though. "Get runners out to the front, tell them to push hard on the aliens, and to take advantage of the EMP. Our scanners and cameras are shot. We are going visual confirmation from now on. Harper, what can you tell me about the kiloton range of that bomb? How much of Shanxi just got wiped?"

Jack was absolutely professional as he came back to the table. Rare, for him. "The part of the bomb that was supposed to be nuclear fire was exchanged for an EMP. Right now, if things are right," He motioned to the spaceport, which was now in the alien's hands. "This entire area is no longer going to have working computers until they reboot. If they are an invading army, then they don't have much equipment to do that on the ground yet. The Reds will be starting their assault within moments, as you might imagine. They'll need backup."

Williams glanced at her. "What can you tell us about them, Agent?" Looks like he was going to the person he trusted more than Jack. Which was to say, everyone in the room.

"They had eyes set into their heads, like an airborne predator. Skin has scaled, but are thinner and weaker around the neck. Their shoulders are wide, and may block direct strikes on their neck from behind. To engage them in close combat, you'll have to go for the waist or neck, as the armpits, nose, and knees are all armored. They will most likely have less dexterity, as they only have three fingers. They will operate interfaces more slowly. Other than that, they are very disciplined, and work together well. Definitely a trained military force, and their ships are color coded for when they land. Blue shuttles are priority, and usually carry casualties. Other shuttles are red or green, and carry troops and supplies. Shoot those with impunity."

Williams nodded. "Do you think we have a chance of taking back the spaceport?"

"If we do, we deny them the only location that they can land armored vehicles at within one hundred miles. The mountains can protect us from normal land approaches. It will be just like what happened when the Alliance had to take this back in the first place. This time, we will have all of the advantage. As long as we can just get them out of the spaceport, they will have to relocate."

"Or just keep shelling us from orbit." Jack noted, intruding on the conversation again. "These aliens are perfectly willing to shoot down at any coordinated assault that we put forward. The Reds aren't going to be mounting any kind of assault on the spaceport. They will be setting explosives on the most likely path of the next attack. The EMP that just went off is going to take their armor, shields, and any shuttles on the ground offline. We have a short window before more troops come down or they have their technicians reboot everything. More importantly, that EMP just disabled all of the consoles that would have given them intelligence on the location of earth or our other colonies."

This was greeted with at least some healthy smiles. Jack was boldly drinking some sort of alcohol, and had poured one glass for her and for the General. She refused, though she really wanted to drink it. General Williams poured his out into a garbage. Then he threw the cup in with it. "Glad they did something right. Get a runner out there to get flares to our troops. That way we can report on their locations. Focus on killing as many of the enemy as we can."

Williams then turned to his communications officers. "You're useless until cameras and sensors are back online, which I doubt we will get the chance to do. Go round up some of the alien's bodies. We can't just keep losing soldiers like this. Harper! Tell your friends to evacuate what civilians they can, as soon as possible. Agent Shepard, I want your help with their snipers. If we are going to survive this, we need to keep our men alive. The last one was reportedly in this sector…" Williams trailed off, pointing at a section of the city.

She really wanted a nap right now. Or at least a bit of food. Perhaps she could slip out and grab something while he was rambling. But that wouldn't be respectful. Damnit. At least he was bossing Jack around. That made him good in her book.

Author's Note

Welcome to Shanxi. This time it will run a bit differently than in canon, since it is out of sync with the timeline and the preparations that Jack has put into Shanxi. Things will progress much faster now that everything is mostly introduced.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sixteen Days Later

Shanxi had been pounded. The city was a crater at this point, due to repeated kinetic strikes to destabilize the tunnels that ran all over the city. The mountain was collapsed, the base underneath it having been completely wiped out. Hannah watched all of this from across the valley, where some of the surviving militia had camped out. These aliens had utterly destroyed their military. Perhaps if they had a few more battalions, it would have been different, but these scale-faced bastards had ruined everything.

She had been given something to replace her old set of sleuthing gear by Jack. He had given her some sort of tunic with a layer of wool that rubbed against the outer layers in it. The static it gave off shocked people whenever she touched them. More importantly, it gave her a recharge on her cloak after only a few minutes. It had saved her life a few times.

"Are you ready?" She asked the few people with her. None of them were wearing armor, and most were women. They had to be, to slip into the civilian camps. These aliens had set up internment camps for their prisoners. They shot anyone who escaped, but freely let people come in. After everything was said and done, they still hadn't conquered all of Shanxi. Two weeks of effort had landed them in a terrible supply situation. General Williams and some leader of the Reds that she wasn't allowed to know the name of yet had gotten together and made things very hard for the aliens.

They were forced to level every single building, and overturn every single rock. Land Mines were apparently one of the specialties of the Reds, and they preferred plaster castings that didn't have any metal in them as the shape. The explosive agent could then be covered in ash or rock dust, and left on the road where any of them could trigger it. The alien's forward motion came to a halt, and for three days the city was shelled until they figured no one was left standing.

Then the main assault on the mountain came. Thanks to General Williams keeping a few tanks inside, they managed to hold off the endless assaults. The few remaining soldiers then escaped through tunnels into the back of the mountain range, where they scattered to different smaller towns. Most were long gone or abandoned, leaving the only army units capable of mounting an assault too far away to be of any use. The aliens had effectively won, but not before realizing the different between the civilians and the military.

Now, it was down to the Reds. Hannah had joined up with them because there was no one else left. They didn't take it well. But she was given a chance to prove herself. They had no choice but to take her help. She could get into anywhere. She was much better at flying shuttles now. She had stolen at least a dozen more before they got smart. Now the landing areas were well patrolled and the pilots always had a backup on board.

Better soldiers and a few more ships had shown up. The aliens now had their own light vehicles on the ground, and the Reds had exhausted much of their explosives. Now they lived in wandering camps, going from town to town looking for resources. Some, though, gave up and surrendered. The aliens didn't stop anyone from coming in, they just kept everyone from leaving. Standard practice for internment camps. At least the ones in human history.

She had with her five people. The few that had gained her trust in the Reds. "You know the drill. We come for food, but stick to the plan. You'll know when things get rough. Extraction might not occur. But for all we know it might do us more good to work from within. If you see a better position to work from, take it." She gave each of them a look. "No heroics. After this we will need people that can be trusted for what is coming after this."

They walked their way through the foothills, and started walking through what was once the suburbs. Very little remained standing. After their first failure to take Tyrrel Headquarters, the aliens had bombarded every standing building with enough firepower to level it, twice. Just to make sure all of the tunnels collapsed. A lot of people died down there. Some managed to escape, but hundreds were still trapped down there. There was no way to get them out.

She walked along, saving her cloak even though it was at full charge. She hadn't spent much time visible lately. But she was nearly out of batteries to charge off of, and the only source of power or batteries was inside the camps. Without power, she was looking at a thirty second cloak and then ten minutes of jogging to get a full charge back. Not exactly efficient. She could, of course, risk cloaking with only a half charge of energy but that had never ended well. There was a chance of the cloak not completely stabilizing. Or just shocking her like it did when she was just figuring out how to turn on the cloaking system.

Now she knew instinctively when she had a charge. Her two lowest ribs would tingle slightly when they had it. When that first happened it was like some creature was tickling her mercilessly inside of her ribcage. Now she was quite used to it. When they finally encountered an alien patrol, they had to try not to gag. The aliens were gathering bodies from a street, and dumping them on a fire. The smell was horrible. They didn't have to deal with that, since they were wearing helmets. Hannah and the rest of her team tried to avoid it, walking towards the camp. As the sky turned to twilight, only a few sources of light remained. Traversing the broken territory was hard, as the roads were gone. All that was left was rubble. Fires burned in the distance, but she kept them from approaching those. They were probably more bodies, or worse. The aliens had dropped a few prefabricated buildings on the ground where the spaceport had stood. They had leveled that, too, when they discovered it was the source of the EMP.

Talking to the Reds showed that none of them had been expecting the EMP to go off. Not a single one had gotten a warning about it. It was suspicious, but they did admit that there were a lot of different factions among their number. One or two may have had alternate plans. But to Hannah, something here was off. Jack claimed to know about it, but few if any of the Reds had ever met him or heard of him. She would like to have said that she was in direct control of who he contacted and when, but she couldn't guarantee that. Jack was just that kind of guy who could throw things off. He was sneaky and could plan ahead towards an opportunity that would only emerge months down the road.

It was actually unnerving how sly he was. After fifteen months as his sidekick-slash-secretary, she noticed things like that. He had a hair trigger for his anger, but could always think under pressure. At times he almost didn't have any pressure on a situation, even when billions of credits were on the line. Right now, though, she needed to get him back.

He and a few others had still been inside the Tyrrel Headquarters building when the aliens finally broke through. Civilians and soldiers alike were captured and brought to the internment camp. She assumed that Jack had survived. He was needed to answer some questions.

They were noticed by the alien patrols once they got closer. They didn't stop them, but did point them in the right direction. Some of their basic abilities at communication had come through, evidently. None of them spoke to them, but with the helmets on it was unlikely that anything they said was projected externally. But she knew how they sounded by now. They had a snarling, whistling, language that was highly expressive. They could communicate easily and clearly in the mix of battle, even when the noise was extreme. She would probably be having nightmares about that language for years.

It took them hours to reach the camp, and by that time she was hungry. The Reds had turned into a nomadic, hungry, desperate army. They didn't have much fight left in them. But that was to be expected when firing a hand weapon at an alien resulted in orbital artillery strikes upon the threatening position. They were brutal and ruthless. So naturally, the only place she could fight back against them was from within the internment camp.

Spray paint marked the edge of it, in some bright garish red, that glowed at night. She saw it and walked across the line, the alien guards watching silently as the new group of refugees entered. They were immediately set upon by other desperate people, who were after their items, clothes, or whatever else they could get their hands on. Hannah slipped away in the confusion, walking towards the middle of the camp. There were tents, and small structures set up from the rubble. The people huddled around a few piles of larger pieces, trying to stay out of the rain and snow. Mud was a constant.

Only one actual building stood, and it was manned by the aliens. They were supplying food, probably looted or carried in by them. The food was very carefully guarded, and a full squad of the enemy surrounded the boxes. More of their strange lettering was on it, but the language appeared slightly different. Some sort of other dialect, perhaps. The new script appeared to be all blocky, square and precise. The claw marks that made up the alien scripts she had been familiar with were very different. The marks were allowed to stray outside the lines that normal english would follow, where this new script was written awkwardly. The script was written downwards, and some of the shapes of each of the symbols looked almost like old binary code on computers.

She got some weird looks for staring at the food so long. She backed off, looking around for the end of the line to get food. When she got there, one of her team had already saved her a spot in line.

"I found him." was her only statement. She motioned her head to Hannah's left. "I'll save a spot for you while you go talk to him. He looks pretty beat up."

She nodded. Stepping off to the side, she saw one more of her team taking care of Jack Harper, whose face was a bit torn up from some sort of beating. For some reason none of the survivors ever had any signs of claw marks on their skin. Even though the aliens had clawed hands, they didn't use them. Probably some sort of humane thing to do. Though that term might be changed soon enough.

"Jack!" she said. "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not. Neither is Humanity." He said. Always with his obsessions.

"What happened?"

"One of the aliens took my Omni-tool. They found the OSD I had been hiding. It's only a matter of time before they can translate all of the information on it. I created a translation for their language, but with that program they can get to everything I was keeping on my OSD, or any other consoles they come across." Jack looked manic. But he was always paranoid. "You need to kill the one who interrogated me and get it back."

Jack's Omni-tool was sort of like a Holy Grail. It had economic and political information all over it. Worse, it also had a galaxy map so that he could plot courses for the _Talon_ when he needed to. She needed to get that back. "Describe this alien." She was familiar enough now to know about different clan markings or whatever they were on their faces. She had seen three or four different types so far.

"They call themselves Turians." Jack said. "They are a race that is dextro-based. All it takes to kill them is to get biological material from us into their body. They will go into shock within minutes. The one you need to go after has pale scales, a slightly longer fringe, and no facial markings. Last I saw he was wearing Black armor, with blue highlights along the arms."

No facial markings, that would make her job easier. Longer fringe, easy enough to do. But to get out of here and find him, that would take some doing. She returned to the food line, where her team converged. They all were hungry, and when the aliens handed them some featureless mush, she shrugged. It was food, and it tasted better than roasted rats. The Reds were not very sanitary to begin with, and rats became a common food as the food storage buildings got leveled.

So, she ate. Then, she got to planning. She had five people and Jack. Jack was delirious and needed a real hospital eventually. He had at least been getting intelligence on the enemy. Or at least if he had any brains at all he would have been paying attention to where he got interrogated.

"Get me patrol routes, times, and prepare a distraction. I'll find a way past the motion sensors and whatever else is inside their base." She had been there before. More importantly, she had stashed things inside the base. Her original plan was to blow it sky high, but the alien bastards had made it right next to the internment camp. If she blew it the base would kill a lot of people who didn't deserve it.

When she got back to Jack with some water, he looked a little better. "What part of the base did he interrogate you?"

"Long room, a few tables. Green lights on the walls." _Vehicle Bay_. "He had a few scars on his face. Blue eyes. His right arm was different. Walked with more force on his left foot." Jack seemed to be recalled things. "He had some sort of authority. Didn't have the same markings on his armor."

She had some batteries inside the base. As well has a few energy bars and her favorite shotgun. She had 'borrowed' one of the enemy shotguns once, but had to give it to one of the soldiers. She didn't get to fire it more than once as it was. She mostly had to use her knife. Snipers, aliens who went off all alone, she would follow them and bring them down. Often times their squad would notice and come to the aid of their comrade, leaving her little choice but to shoot them in the head and be done with it.

Her team got a hold of her soon after. "Their patrols are near-constant. Airborne shuttles cover the back approaches. There is a few pieces of cover between you and the base. We can guess that they are landing more and more personnel by the hour."

That would mean that the alien, or rather _Turian_, could have left already. Every shuttle that took off was a chance that she was missing them. She didn't have a choice about that. "I need a distraction then. Get them away from the food line, or at least give me cover."

She had one good batch of juice left on her wrist. She could drain the battery of her Omni-tool, but that wouldn't last. That also denied her the use of it, if she had to hack anything. Not that she had been able to so far, but it was a resource. She grunted, using an exceptionally tall man of asian descent as cover before she was going to turn invisible. She loved her cloak. It had saved her life a few times in the last few days. Jack did promise he would research a way to make it more efficient, but she wasn't holding her breath. He was the one who got captured and forced her to have to go make sure he was ok.

She had her chance to run five minutes later. She quickly cloaked, hoping that not too many people noticed. Her feet left marks in the mud as she sprinted towards the prefabricated buildings that the Turians had put down. Her feet thundered on the entryway, but the mud had gotten all over the inside from their own troops already. Once she made it inside their base, the security level started dropping. Guards were less prevalent. She got to one of their bathrooms, which was usually pretty quiet. There was only one unfortunate soul in there at the time, and a lot of mud tracks. But under one of the sinks was her stash. Her shotgun, sadly, was in one of the vents. But she had a battery and an energy bar here. Enough to get to the vehicle bay where they must have brought Jack.

She went past the Turian's food dispenser, or crappy cafeteria. Some of the Reds had tried eating food taken from the aliens. They had started foaming at the mouth and dying right after eating it. No one else tried to do that again. Some sort of poison agent or something that kept humans from eating it. She moved past that, keeping to the muddy areas of the hallway. Some of the aliens she just had to dodge or move around without disturbing anything. That was hard in their small doorways. More than once she had to step into small alcoves quickly to avoid being run over by moving soldiers.

But when she got to the vehicle bay, the sight that greeted her was not normal. A few beaten Alliance marines were chained up to a wall, where consoles and some interfaces were placed. They were apparently being forced to use them or explain them. One of the Turians was clearly speaking English.

"You want to live! Open the console! Or else you'll end up like your friend there!" A corpse lay against the wall, shot through the head. The marines had been stripped of their armor, and some were sporting injuries. Others were showing signs of torture. But what was interesting was the one that was speaking. He was not wearing a helmet, and he didn't have any sort of markings on his face. She had found someone that looked like her guy. Or at least someone that looked like the alien described by Jack.

She kept her distance and moved to the wall behind the alien, where a couple of guards were standing. They looked like they were just keeping watch over the prisoners. Their guns were held tightly, nonetheless. Humans must be dangerous even when unarmed to them. Then again, they had to bombard the most heavily populated city on the planet into dust before the fighting died down. More due to running out of places to shoot from than anything else, though.

The Turian that she was observing didn't have the thick Omni-tool that humanity produced. Theirs were slim, and had a metallic edge to them that made them far more durable than human-made ones. She was totally going to sell that technology to human corporations when she got back to Earth. Human made ones were large, ungainly, and looked like a studded belt from the 2020's. The haptic screen that emerged from it was small and ungainly. The Turian version wrapped over their entire arm, and had a separate area for the screen and the keyboard.

He might have it somewhere else. She found an electrical port and rested her wrist on it. The battery she had been draining she slipped into her belt, careful not to let the cloak be disrupted. Thankfully this was one of those things that she practiced. Unfortunately the aliens didn't have the most amazing of power plants. They would notice the power draw eventually. Their lights didn't flicker like they had on some of the prefabricated buildings, though.

She had to wait a long time for something to change, as the human prisoners were tortured. Some looked like they were honestly trying to brute force hack their way into the consoles, probably taken from the Military base or from other settlements. She didn't want to get close to find out. Their exposed cabling meant that it could expose her easily. Bumping into the wrong person could disrupt her field.

When another Turian walked in, she almost didn't notice him. But he was wearing black armor with blue highlights. He walked a bit heavier than the normal guards, who saluted him when he walked in. The only one who didn't salute him was the other alien without any markings.

The alien in charge of the torture grunted towards the other alien. "Saren." He said. "This rabble doesn't seem to be giving me the results I need." He still had his translation program running. _Saren_. Was that some sort of greeting? She didn't know. But the way he pronounced it was more like a deep baritone snarl, drawn out over multiple syllables. The translation program made it nicer. Not that an alien could show signs of being nice, but it was nice to be able to understand them.

"Then kill another. There will always be more of these primitives." The Turian in black armor said. "I need to find one of them that has a better understanding of their programs. One of these things had an Omni-tool. Something Prothean is around here somewhere."

The marines were accustomed to keeping straight faces. But the word Prothean made a couple look beyond their consoles they were strapped to. She had found her target. Some sort of Turian Saren. If that was their word for officer. If that even translated.

"So take the one you took it from. They might be convinced to help you understand it."

"I damaged him already. He wouldn't survive a second time." The _Saren_ said. He wanted to drag Jack in again. That wasn't good.

"Like you said, there is always more of them. They have more worlds out there. They are expendable." At that, the speaking Turian approached the line of marines and brought out his pistol. She narrowed her eyes. They didn't even treat them like real threats. Well, showed what they knew. Humanity was going to wreck them. As soon as the fleet could mobilize and figure itself out. There wouldn't be much of Shanxi to save, but there were a lot of people still here.

"I guess I could ask him the questions wherever he has ended up. I'll be back down with the gear soon." The Saren alien started walking off, getting saluted again by the guards but not by the other unmarked alien. Interesting. Facial markings could determine ranking system, or caste. Lack of them might be an indicator as well. She would have to write all this down when she could get away with it.

At least the translators were working. Hannah quickly moved to follow this Saren. She barely managed to keep him in sight as he went to the landing pad. He went in one of the garish green marked shuttles, the smaller ones. Thankfully it had a few pieces of cargo to hide behind. The Turian went up to the cockpit, and she held one of the crates tightly. When the ship took off less than ten seconds later, her cloak was disrupted. The straps that held the crates down stretched across her skin, and she had to hold on as the shuttle went vertical.

She used her feet to keep herself on the back of the crate, getting a bit of mud on the landing door to keep from sliding all over the compartment. The flight eventually went to the upper parts of the atmosphere, but the gravity remained nearly the same. Soon she was able to just brace against the floor again. The flight was a bit terrifying. She knew they had gone into space because of how cold the shuttle got. Her clothes did few things for surviving in cold environments, but she prepared herself anyways. Battery in hand, she was ready for when the shuttle landed.

She had done this to James and Jack a few times. Hide in the back of the shuttle and wait for them to leave. This time it was a bit more dangerous. There was no question that she was in dangerous territory now. She would be onboard their ships. She didn't know anything about them or how they worked. Hand sensors, or rather claw sensors, might be a problem for her. Any sensors, really. She didn't have much time.

There was a grinding sound as the shuttle came into some sort of hangar. She waited until the grinding sound extended to the door before engaging her cloak. It wasn't hard to see where she was when the shuttle doors opened. Hangar bays were generic, and anything designed after prothean technology was near about the same. Comforting on some level, at least. The aliens inside the bays were a mix of armor bearing soldiers and a technicians. the colors were even more garish than what was painted on their ships. She had wondered if they saw color on a different spectrum, as neon green was not something that made anyone look good. Unless you were an alien, apparently.

The Saren Turian walked out from the shuttle, and the soldiers made way for him. She only had to follow behind him, and avoid any of the wet spots on the hangar deck. Many attempts were being made to clean mud off of the deck. But with every shuttle some of Shanxi's dirt got up here. She followed him to a set of stairs next to the hangar, very wide and meant to move some of their larger equipment up and down. He paused at the bottom, and she almost ran into him.

She could hear him breathing, and she was afraid to even move. She didn't breath for the longest time, and it felt like eternity before the Turian started walking again. She did have her training to fall back on, to recover her breath without sounding like a gaping fish. The aliens didn't make much noise as the breathed, she guessed because their mouths were constructed differently.

The Turian walked carefully down into a small hallway, where rooms were. She glanced into the first one as she entered the hallway, seeing a small hutch and an insert in the floor. The Alliance used pod-like sleeping chambers. Whatever these aliens used, well, it looked less comfortable. Small bits of netting around a depression in the floor made up the location where they slept, and it looked like hot bunking applied here as well. Multiple lockers and a bench were also in the room. She saw no hygiene practice areas or items. They must have a bathroom further on the level.

Up ahead, the Turian she was following entered one of the chambers. She followed, seeing the same layout as the rest of the ship. But instead of a bench, there was a table. Officer's quarters, she was guessing. He was bending over the bench, wrestling with a dismantled Omni-tool. Human designs were meant for small fingers, and even more delicate tools, after all. These creature's Omni-tools were large, robust, and had screws large enough that a fingernail might be able to get to them. Sort of a design flaw if she thought about it long enough.

"I didn't know that the STG were so curious about me." Came the voice of the Turian, being translated by his Omni-tool. The growl present in his undertone was terrifying. But there was no one else in the room. She looked around at the rest of the hallway. It was empty outside of her and one tired looking technician. "Come in, and shut the door. We don't want to disturb the rest of the men here with your business."

She gulped. He knew she was there. Jack was like that too, always noticing her. It was disturbing for an alien to recognize a cloaking field, as that meant that there were aliens out there with the same. She would need to survive if she was going to get that information back to Earth, but the chances of that were getting less and less each minute. She didn't like any of her options. She didn't have a solid exit strategy. She decided to come into the room, finding the function to shut the door rather simplistic. Thankfully, she made that look natural rather than unnatural.

The moment she would decloak, the Turian would see her. He had a pistol at his hip, extremely large. It was half the size of her shotgun, and she already could tell that it would leave most of her upper body a pulpy mess if he shot at her. She would need to incapacitate or kill him. At least she knew how to do that. Knife and zip-tie were out. The way he was sitting and the fact he knew she was there would make any approach to him worthless. She would have to use her backup.

She held up an envelope, that had been sealed shut. It was made from a mail office inside the military base before it had been completely surrounded. So, she held it up, and popped it, spraying out its contents all over the startled Turian. He just looked surprised as she decloaked, one hand holding the envelope, and the other holding her trusty knife. The door was closed, and none of the other aliens should have heard that. Their hearing was less than human capable, thankfully.

He didn't notice the fine spray that was now coating him as he charged forward, a knife in his hand as well. His first strike came in at her throat, forcing her to roll forward to avoid it. The Turian's hips were not built for rolling. So he had to pivot, while she came up into a ready stance.

"You! I didn't know your race was capable of such things. Impressive, that you would be able to confront me here." He started reaching for his pistol. She didn't have a choice now. She had to get close. She charged forward, making the Turian have to use his hand to knock her swipe off balance before he could reach for his gun. In this small of a space, there was no room to really maneuver. He had the home field advantage. But one thing he didn't have was time.

The first cough came right as he dragged his knife over her arm. The blade was serrated, and was made up of multiple pieces of metal. Not a single cut, but five individual cuts were left as the blade tore up her arm. One of her tendons popped like a spring, and after that her left arm was numb. She had to duck as he tried to slide his blade right where her heart would be.

Well, that proved that this alien was already quite used to killing humans. She had to jump back as he swung wide, the multiple serrated edges of the blade almost vibrating to her eyes. Either that or there was some sort of motor in the blade, to give it the strength to pierce armor. It was also nearly a foot long, which meant that whatever that knife was designed for, there was a lot of bone to cut through.

He coughed again, his breath already coming short. "Smart little pyjak." He grunted. She had no idea what a pyjak was. Probably some form of derogatory term. "What did you hit me with?"

She grinned. It had reached his lungs by now. "I powdered aluminum and glass shards along with human fecal matter. Soaked in it, really. Your kind don't have an answer to allergic reactions inside the lungs. Once this hits your bloodstream, your body reacts poorly to it, sending you into shock." He fell down on his knees, still gripping his knife. Some sort of foam was gathering in the sides of his mouth. "Sorry you had to be one of the test subjects."

She really wasn't sorry. But perceived pity created shame reactions in targets. They felt more comfortable, or got angry. This Saren got angry.

"Your kind will be crushed, Human! The Turian Hierarchy has already taken one of your homeworlds, and all of the others will soon fall!" He started sliding into the sleeping depression in the floor. He was also flickering blue, for some reason. But when he tried to raise his arm, the flickering stopped. "F-For the Impe-" The rest descended into blood-soaked coughs. Trying to breath when powdered aluminum and glass were in your lungs, during an asphyxiation, was impossible. It was also a terrible way to die. But they were trying to kill them back, so it was slightly justified.

Hannah glanced at her left arm, which looked like an animal had gored her. The main tendons for the inner part of the arm were cut, as well as a large artery. Human blood was all over her shirt already, so she had to act fast. She made a tourniquet from a scrap of cloth and tied it around her upper arm. Not much she could do otherwise to stop the bleeding. Now with one arm, she picked up the Turian's weapon. The heavy pistol was large, but extremely advanced. It looked mean. His knife was slipped into her belt, as it had her blood on it. She kept any signs of herself from the room, before grabbing the Omni-tools that were on the table. There were two, both of human make. Three OSDs were next to them, which she pocketed. Their batteries she didn't pop back in, as she might need the charge. She could reconstruct an Omni-tool no problem once she was back on Shanxi.

But first she had to get there. If anyone opened the door, they would see this Saren dead on the ground, with foam on his mouth. Looking closer at him, he seemed to be young. His scales were flat, and not rubbed off like on some of the Turians she had seen. It was going to be obvious that a human killed him. Materials that were poisonous to them all found on Shanxi, combined with human blood? There was no way to hide that. But that was what she was trained for. As much as she didn't like it, Alliance Intelligence Agents were meant to remove threats to the Alliance before it could become a more serious threat. This Turian was just a trumped up soldier. He was prepared for armed enemies on a battlefield.

She rolled him over, so that he wasn't facing the door. That would give her a bit more time to slip away onto a shuttle. She tried to arrange him to look more 'natural' but it just didn't work out. He was still wearing his armor. She took a look around the rest of the room, noticing that his locker was open. She grinned. There was nothing like free stuff in the face of an alien invasion. Inside there was another set of armor, which she sadly couldn't carry. There was also a few datapads, which she found the OSDs, as well as _Oh! Hello!_

At the bottom of the locker was a long, curved shotgun. Unlike most of the alien weapons that she had seen so far, this one looked like it was designed to be aesthetically pleasing to the eye. Most of the Turian weapons were all sharp edges, and very lightly embellished. This shotgun looked like it was almost a proportionally perfect weapon. It had a large chamber on the back, and the only edge she could find was where the barrel pointed forward. She slid that into her lower back, and decided it was time to leave. She pulled the battery out of Saren's armor, and turned on her cloak.

The hallway was deserted. With a full battery, she could make it to the shuttle bay before she would start feeling the blood loss too heavily. She could feel the wetness of her arm getting into her clothes. Too much and it would disrupt her cloak. She could feel pain radiating from her wound, now that the adrenaline was draining away. The shuttle bay was only up a few stairs, and from there, well after that she was stumped. The constant rush of vehicles coming and going was organized chaos.

One of the shuttle berths was being loaded with soldiers, while the other two were unloading some sort of light crates from green colored shuttles. She ducked around into a corner, trying not to get run over by all of the moving aliens. The adrenaline was being replaced by numbness as she sat there, unmoving. She had hours before her arm would need to be amputated rather than simply stitched up. She couldn't look down at her Omni-tool to even check the time. Using that would be asking to get shot.

So she had no way of keeping track of how long her arm had been bound up in a tourniquet. She decided that she couldn't wait too long, and made for one of the shuttles that was being loaded with heavy crates. After knowing that one of these Turians noticed her in her cloak, she was being extra paranoid. She took cover behind one of the moving crates, using it and the men lugging it to hide as she moved towards the shuttle. She slipped on board only at the last moment, when the doors were closing.

The pilot took off, immediately going as fast as possible. Her cloak was disrupted as she had to hold on to the tied down crates. She checked on the battery she had stolen, the symbols blinking blue. Blue was normally a bad color in their technology. Their blood was blue, and their medical shuttles had that color as well. She assumed that meant that the battery was low. She held up the batteries for the Omni-tools she had recovered. They would have to do.

January, 2153, Arcturus Sector

The entire Alliance Second Fleet had gathered. Over fifty ships were prepared to jump through the relay and go after Shanxi. One of them was the newly completed and very hastily rushed _SSV Everest_. The Dreadnaught was the first of its kind, and was supposed to take another nine months to finish. Due to the massive threat posed by an alien invasion, its construction was rushed. It didn't have much other than engines and weapons, along with the heaviest kinetic barriers the fleet had to offer, but it was the strongest punch that they had.

Charles Pressley had suffered through hundreds of hours of briefings and debriefings. As he was one of the few navigation technicians to survive contact with the enemy, he therefore had to educated the rest of the Alliance Navy on plotting courses during combat to avoid the enemy's superior speed and firepower. Pressley would normally try to avoid all of the praise that came with that, but right now it was near about the only compensation he got. Combat bonuses were few, considering that the entire combat period against the enemy was less than forty five minutes. Damn politicians. They could afford to eat steak every day but guys like him had to suffer with A-Rations. Alliance rations were considered a delicacy nowhere.

He hadn't gotten a raise or anything for surviving. No appreciation was given to anyone who survived the battle. Both of the cruisers went down before the frigates got out of the area. The three frigates that survived were busy after that. Each member of the crew had to brief their opposites on other ships. Auditoriums had been filled to brief damage control crews and the engineers. Conference rooms were needed for the different technician groups. Thankfully Pressley had only needed to brief a few dozen technicians and flight officers. But since it was on a more personal level, those very same people would feel comfortable asking questions. So while the pilots and the officers got to finish their briefings to a few hundred people, the engineers and technicians had to suffer through hours of questions.

So then Pressley would start his shifts on board the _Kursk_, performing draining hours of wargames where the _Kursk_ would simulate an alien flotilla. the other ships would have their engines and performance capabilities turned down by 40% while they would try to replicate what the enemy did. That part was at least fun, but all of this lead to him getting no sleep and no signs of a promotion.

Finally, though, some admiral had said it was time for them to go after the aliens. The new recruits like him were suitably prepared, and everyone had been run ragged in preparation for the coming battle. The _Everest_ was done, if only enough to fire her main gun. But the folks on earth were mad about having the aliens take their territory. A lot of the news was about the speculation on what the aliens were doing to Shanxi while the Alliance prepared for battle. A few of the alien patrols had tried to sortie through one of the connecting relays from Shanxi, but had been beaten back without too much effort. Only a few frigate hunting packs had been noticed by either side. Most exchanged a few shots and then got out of there before any backup from either side arrived. The Alliance was keeping the _Everest_ and their other specialized ships back. The aliens were looking for anything that would tell them about the Alliance's numbers. They were shuffling crews through on the three cruisers and four frigates that the aliens had already seen.

Those four included the _Kursk_. So in addition to war games, they were on patrol at the relay as well, to keep the aliens thinking that they only had a few ships. Today, though, they were going to finally go on the offensive. So, he had plotted over ten different flight plans. All with the assumption that the _Kursk_ would be at the front of the pack. That was what all of their briefings and mission reports were telling them.

So, they and the rest of the known flotilla of ships came through the relay into Shanxi's area of space. The three cruisers and other three frigates came out in an organized bunch, around eighty thousand kilometers off from where they wanted to be. Not all that bad in the grand scheme of things, but it was further out than they needed to be. It was the pilot's job to move the craft along the plotted paths, and compensate for that. It was his job to account for stellar objects and other trouble spots.

Right now, his sensors were telling him a couple of things. The first being that the alien flotilla that normally was defending the relay wasn't there. They were fast on their way to form up with another pack from their fleet. Their main body was hovering above Shanxi, as they had been every time they had come through the relay.

"Get us to the other relay. Proceed with our mission." Captain Rogers said. Pressley quickly forwarded the modified flight paths to the pilot, and started calculating in his head where the aliens would be able to intercept them.

"Enemy could come into contact with us in under fifteen minutes." He said to the Captain, as a reminder. The Captains had to depend on their sensor and navigation technicians a lot in these battles. As the enemy were so fast, they could outflanked at any given time.

"Their combat doctrine isn't prepared for us. Keep at full speed towards the other relay. Once they close distance, prepare to break towards them." The aliens were bringing in their flotilla. Things were quiet as their ships oriented towards the near side of the system, where the other connecting relay was. The aliens could clearly see that, and brought five frigates and two cruisers to engage them. That was not a good ratio for an engagement that they could win. But they would need to draw them in for this plan to work. When the enemy were five minutes from contact, the Commander in charge of the cruisers gave the order to form the battle line.

The frigates fanned out along the sides, their weapons aimed at the enemy. "Keep them engaged, we can't let them break off. Start going after their fighter compliment before they can hit us with those torpedoes." Rogers stood right behind the weapons officer. "I don't want anything getting through."

Two minutes out from engagement, the cruisers opened fire. They could reload in time, but it forced the alien fighters to break up a little bit. Otherwise they would be able to hide their launched torpedoes in their sensor shadows. Forcing them to break off revealed the torpedoes, which were easy meat for the concentrated Guardian lasers. Last time this strategy had destroyed one of their cruisers. This time they didn't let that happen. The fighters had to break off for a couple minutes while the lasers strafed them.

That bought them another minute while the aliens adjusted to their adapted strategy. But it was enough. The relay flashed into activity, and the largest ship that the humans had came through. The _SSV Socrates_ came through the relay, its exposed bays stuff to the brim with every single fighter that they could convince to fly with them. In addition to the ones assigned to the _Socrates_, they had asked for volunteers to come with them into battle. Some had to be strapped onto the mostly complete superstructure of the _Everest_ so that they could be taken through the relay. Everyone knew that a lot of those fighters weren't coming back today. But the entire core of the Alliance strategy was focused around these fighters.

Their flotilla had engaged the aliens, but as soon as the _Everest_ and its escorts had cleared the relay, the aliens tried to book it back to Shanxi. Their flotilla had lost one of the frigates in the two or three minutes of exchange, and others were damaged. One of the cruisers took a torpedo to the main barrel, and was out of the fight. But the alien bastards were going to have to split up their fleet if they wanted to secure their relay. Pressley grinned as they were able to see the alien flotilla they had engaged divert towards the relay. The main alien fleet would have to go on without their frigates.

While the other forty or so human ships of the Second Fleet formed up against the inner part of the solar system. Their flotilla was joined by a few more frigates and another cruiser to replace the one they lost. Their new job was to take on the aliens securing the other relay. Pressley was carefully observing the main battle, since that would start before their flotilla would get to the other relay. The solar system's gravity well made FTL travel difficult, if not outright impossible. Shanxi was in the middle of the system, and it looked like the entire enemy fleet of twenty five ships had lined up against them. They had another six heading towards the relay, so that meant that the human fleet had almost two to one odds.

In the end, nothing really happened. Some shots were fired from long distance, and the frigates on both sides shot at each other a few times. The main alien fleet picked up everything they could get their hands on and left. Which meant that their flotilla was staring down the barrel of a dreadnaught that could move faster than human cruisers. They had no choice but to give up contending for the relay.

Their flotilla wasn't engaged, but before the aliens drove them off with few problems. Pressley just spent this entire battle waiting, unlike the last week. The adrenaline was running high in everyone. As the alien dreadnaught came to the edge of the relay, a message was played across all channels. It came across in disturbing english, with some sort of snarling undertone. It didn't sound like anything that a human throat could produce.

_"You have broken Council Law, primitives. We are the Turian Hierarchy, and we will return to fully punish you for your crimes." _The voice had two octaves to it, surprisingly. _"Your defense of this world has been honorable, but in the end it will not save you. Prepare yourselves as you see fit."_

Pressley had _no_ idea what that meant. Perhaps someone else did. Probably above his paygrade. "Set a route to secure that relay, Ensign!" Life had a way of making things easier for guys like him. Just wait for the orders to come down the grapevine.

Later that month, Earth, New York

Runya Ross had the most scalding glare reserved for Jack Harper. He could tell. She despised the fact that he had survived the hell that was Shanxi. He was in traction for a some bruised ribs. She didn't care if he was hurt or not. She did seem offended that he had survived. To his right was Hannah, with a wrapped arm and a suitcase full of what she had termed 'loot' taken from onboard the alien ship.

Past her were two officers that had survived. Sergeant Collins of the Taurus Station marines, who had escaped via escape pod and had survived after landing on Shanxi. He was the only superior officer to have survived the space battle over the station. He looked medically stable, but his eyes never stayed in focus for too long. Loud noises made him jerk uncontrollably, taking cover from some supposed kinetic strike. He was here as icing on the cake.

Last in the row of people to speak was General Williams. He looked like he had been underfed for weeks. His cheeks were gaunt and pale, and even the ten hours it took for them to get to earth hadn't helped much. Jack was happy to eat real food again, even though the Turians did manage to feed them. Some Volus technology, or supplier, had been keeping the internment camps fed. Jack hadn't had that kind of food before, but it tasted like nutrient paste. Asari or Salarian nutrient paste. He was looking forward to some of his comforts of home.

They were the only people that the Alliance had been able to find, of note at least, as they retook the planet. So far as he had heard, General Williams had mentioned them by name, but all of them had been told to wait until the debriefing so they only had to explain once.

They did have an audience. Roughly three hundred people were sitting amongst the auditorium, with Admirals and Ross sitting at a table facing them. Media were not allowed in here, for certain.

"General Williams, we are prepared to hear your report. Introduce your witnesses and please explain how you lost an entire colony." Well, _that_ Admiral certainly didn't like him. Points for Jack. He was sure to hate him too just due to association.

Williams was used to their blustering. "To my left is Sergeant Collins, who was the only survivor of the Turian assault on Taurus Station. He experienced their squad tactics for boarding orbital stations and airlocks. By his words, before he was declared mentally unfit for duty, they use some sort of tech mines that work like EMP, draining kinetic barriers and damaging electrical equipment that normally kept the doors under control. They had heavier weapons for breaching our orbital defenses than our ground defenses at first. Those eventually made it to the ground, but one of the weapons described was some sort of harpoon gun with explosive tips. Apparently mounted on a sniper rifle chassis, it could go through any of the pieces of deployable cover that our soldiers had in position. This weapon alone made our defenses worthless.

"Collins and most of the men that could still walk abandoned Taurus Station to the enemy after losing to their overwhelming firepower. They were very experienced at hitting orbital targets. Collins then landed and continued fighting from the ground." Williams explained, looking over at Collins to see if he responded. "When the Turians began their bombardment, Collins no longer responded to outside stimuli. Collins is here because he is a good example of what kind of survivors we will be having among the civilian population. They will be used to the sounds of combat. They will probably have PTSD and other mental deficiencies as a result of losing six out of every ten people on Shanxi." Williams was summing up a lot of hurt and damage. But the members of the audience were eating it up.

"The other two individuals here are of rivalling importance. Jack Harper is the man who bought out all of the Tyrrel Corporation's assets after they folded. He was attempting to prevent more panic in his corporate allies at the threat of another Red's uprising. This lead to him getting stuck on the planet when the aliens started their invasion. He was also aware of the revolutionary elements on planet, which was of use later. After the aliens invaded, the terrorist group known as the Reds coordinated the defense of the planet with the military." There were a few murmurs within the audience. They didn't like know that the Reds were planning a revolution, and the thought of the Reds actually helping them was another uncomfortable thought entirely.

"We have been made aware of Jack Harper and his suspicious background. Continue." Came the lead admiral. He didn't seem flustered at all from any of this.

"Jack Harper also brought to our attention his secretary, who turned out to be an Alliance Intelligence agent."

"She is not an active agent, or is she anything more than an asset. Shepard is a disgraced agent and anything she does or says cannot be valued." Ross said from her seat. She seemed to be using every ounce of her intimidation and directing it at Jack.

"She is the reason we know anything about the aliens in the first place. If she is an inactive agent, I would like to see how your active ones compare." Williams said. Jack just grinned. Ross couldn't hold him back anymore after this. Once Hannah was shown to the rest of the Alliance as the agent she truly was, Ross would have no choice but to use her.

"What did Jack Harper tell you?" Ross declared. "That she was capable of hacking anything with his help?"

Williams glared back at her. A good sign in anyone's book. "Miss Shepard, could you please demonstrate your abilities, with Jack as your target." Jack didn't flinch as she disappeared from view, the rest of the audience making plenty of noise and reaction. It wasn't everyday that someone turned invisible. It was less than two seconds later that he had the blade of her knife at his neck, with one hand, and another glowing, vibrating blade that was poised above his eye. He hadn't seen _that_ knife before. Even in his memories.

There were more gasps and noise from the audience. Hannah had two daggers out, and a shotgun on display. She had pulled back her coat to reveal the shoulder holster for a shotgun that she had refused to let go of. It was silver, curved, and utterly alien. It was an Asari shotgun, one of their close range models. It could be charged up, and it fired a larger amount of mass than normal through two barrels. It had a mod on its ammunition block, some sort of nasty Batarian Irradiated rounds. If they got through the armor layer, or to the bloodstream, it would cause damage that medigel would never be able to fix.

She absolutely loved it. Replicating it would be impossible, of course, as it was completely illegal to have any sort of irradiated ammunition of any type. The Batarians didn't really care, but that was their style.

"Agent Shepard singlehandedly stole all of the examples of Turian technology that were intact. She managed to kill over fifty of the enemy singlehandedly, and recover their weapons and armor-bound computers. She is the only reason that we have reliable intelligence on the interior of their ships, as well as their social behavior." General Williams said. "Stand down, please, Agent Shepard."

"Of course, sir." She said, sheathing both knives and letting her coat fall back over the shotgun. When she sat down in her seat it was in the perfectly crafted image of a secretary. Jack was quite pleased with this, as Ross had no choice now but to reinstate her. She was their only agent with experience fighting the enemy, as well as the ability to get close and view them in a way that no other human can.

"Agent Shepard did not impress me at first either. But while she was able to steal Turian technology, none of our technicians could make sense of it. That was where Mister Harper comes in." Williams turned to him with a look of tolerance. But deep down they both knew that was all they felt for each other. "Mister Harper, please describe to them exactly what you did to the Turian technology."

Jack decided that sitting was not the way to present this. Even though he was technically cheating and already knew the Turian language, he had to show that he translated it somehow. So he stood up, and went over to one of the displays. He had ten hours on the way here, and spent it accordingly. He was one of the best economists in the world. From memory(past and present) he could pull details that could back up his claims. Of course, that would do nothing if they didn't prepare for the machinations of the Reapers. The First Contact War would be just the opening act of the entire fall.

The Turians would need something to make them think outside the box. Most of the Council races had fallen into apathy and lapsed into frail mockeries of what their empires could have been. The rachni and Krogan rebellions had brought out a little bit of that fire and drive to succeed, but as soon as the conflict was over the apathy remained. The rise of humanity would be that force that would make the Turians think outside the box.

So, to present all of the information in a way that would make them think that the Turians were the greatest evil possible, he had highlighted the most damning evidence. With a click he remotely accessed Hannah's Omni-tool display function, and routed his information to the display that the witness table now supported. Sixteen feet of screen length popped up, a feature that he was technically supposed to be ignorant of. But he was the one with memories of a horrific future, and they weren't.

"The alien technology, as soon as we saw their ships, was assuredly based upon the same source of technology we depend on: Prothean. Therefore, their computing systems must have the same base designs. Our computer systems have adapted and become based on the Prothean designed ones, even though we pride ourselves on computer innovation. These Turians didn't have that same innovation with their computers. As such, as soon as I got a hold of their technology, I was able to find indicators of Prothean-based algorithms. Unfortunately, I am not a math enthusiast. It took me ten days even with that clue to create translation software.

"Hannah continually supplied me with details and data about their organization. Their anatomy and social behavior didn't matter as much to me as it did translating this file," He pressed a button, making the galaxy map appear. This had most military minds leaning forward, as well as General Williams. He had to stand up and view the map from the front side as well, like the rest of the audience. "This is their map of influence. But what was more interesting was not the map of influence but the names of some of these areas. My translation software marks certain areas as being under disputed control." He motioned to the area where earth was. "Our local area is called the Attican Traverse. Or at least that is how it translates. It is a contested territory for these Turians, along with five other groups. As such, we are very much not alone out here anymore. The terms that labeled these other groups translated as affiliated or client races. Whatever these Turians are, they aren't going to be fighting alone."

The admirals were paying attention to the map much more closely than Ross. _She_ was seething that Jack had found a way to become needed or helpful. Her loss that she hadn't gone to him for help. "Does this map include the locations of the relays that they use?" One of the admirals asked. Jack pressed another button, bringing up the paths of all the known relay systems. Red lines connected star clusters to star clusters. He also highlighted the place where all of the lines converged.

"They call this the Widow system. As far as I can tell, it is the location from which our enemies came from. Either that or this location." He brought up Palaven. The Turian homeworld only had one way in or out of the system. There were no connecting relays from there. "Which appears to be their homeworld. Most of the other information was useless, though I did come across this in one of their Omni-tools. Which most of them seem to be able to afford or it is a generally useful item that everyone owns." He brought up something that he had found on Saren's Omni-tool. Everyone in the audience was treated to the view of a digital magazine, labeled _Badass Weekly_. On the front cover was a Turian, holding a flamethrower and cooking a bunch of Varren while wearing civilian clothing. "Translating this revealed a few things of interest, as well as statistics for the newest and most amazing weapons on the market." This prompted the weapons to be brought up on the screen, with many of the Senators now leaning forward.

Shotguns and pistols were the theme of this month, and the shotgun that Hannah was wearing dominated the second page. She grinned at that, as she saw that her shotgun was called a Queenmaker. Or at least that was how it translated between two or three languages. Apparently this _Badass Weekly_ went on about the best of the best, and talked about Spectres as well as Batarian Warlords.

"The Turians that I managed to get computers from all talked about some sort of central government, here." He motioned to the Widow system again. "We also have some information about ship numbers and fleet configurations that I was able to get from all of the data we received. I will forward all of that to wherever is needed. Most importantly, stealth and cloaking technology was not unfamiliar to these Turians. Either they or their allies might have it, and our security is not up to standard for detecting such things.

"More importantly, we must prepare more agents like Hannah Shepard for use in the future. Our race is at war, and all of our assets must be brought to bear." Jack said. "As such, I fully pledge to move any and all of my financial assets to wartime production. As much as you might trust me to do so. I was the one who financed and allowed Agent Shepard to receive her augmentations. I would like to offer the same augmentations to any others that come forward, to be provided the training and equipment necessary to give us the edge. I offered this before to the Alliance Intelligence office, but was denied."

"We are not here to discuss such things, Mr. Harper. Is there anything else that you managed to do while on Shanxi that this body needs to hear about?" The admiral with some sort of hatred for everyone asked.

Williams answered. "He does not. My report on troop movements, casualties, and damages has been provided to all of you. We are now willing to hear any questions from the board about our actions."

"Why did you not surrender to these aliens when the attack began? Didn't you realize that we would lose a battle where the enemy controlled the space around a planet?"

Williams picked up his small duffel bag and brought out a set of skulls. They were Turian, and had been cleaned and buffed recently. "With no forms of communication that were understood, and no way to know that the Alliance would take two weeks to mobilize enough forces to drive them out, I made the decision to resist. We held on for eleven days against an onslaught that casually leveled city blocks if guns were fired from within the buildings. The enemy did not differentiate between civilian and soldier until after we had been completely defeated. Our few remaining soldiers hunkered down in old locations from the Red Offensive two years ago. We didn't surrender because we believed we had a chance."

Before the admiral could insult him again, another stood up. "General, we did not want you to feel as though we hold you accountable for those deaths. For those eleven days, the Turian fleet could not continue forward and move towards Arcturus, being tied up with your forces. You bought the Alliance eleven days of time to mobilize and stop any attempts at taking more of our territory."

"Admiral Dreschen herself recommended your name for the Alliance Medal of Honor, after we became aware of the reason behind the Turian fleet remaining at Shanxi. This board did ratify that medal. We were unable to nominate any other soldiers, however, due to their civilian status." A small glance was extended towards Ross. Hannah might have gotten that medal after all.

General Williams grunted. "Agent Shepard was unable to wear armor and use her abilities, risking her life to recover these pieces of intelligence. She couldn't even use a kinetic barrier, instead relying on her cloak. If you deny her that medal when she risked her life so many times, I will respectfully refuse mine." He offered, staring at Ross.

Behind the table again, Jack just grinned. Mission accomplished. Hannah was going to be reinstated. Being the only provider of augmentations, the Alliance would come to him for their needs. Cerberus would live again, through this. He had to withhold himself from laughing, his mood was so good. Ross had played into his hand, Hannah was going to have her position back, and once she did, his surveillance would be removed. Freedom was assured. His name would be labeled forever as a warmonger, but all of his money was tied up in war economics anyways.

Author's Note

Shanxi, as described in the normal canon, wasn't a very fortified world. No real defensive structures, and the orbital defenses were not very extensive. In terms of Mass Effect warfare, the control of space determines the victor. Williams was forced to capitulate when he couldn't even use basic combat doctrines to hold territory. The Turians don't discriminate in their shots, considering all members of a hostile society to be active combatants. Since that is their own doctrine, they extend this line of thinking to their conquests. Williams in canon was forced to give up, or risk more civilian casualties.

Jack had to engineer a civil revolt to create a heavily fortified colony. It was the easiest method to use when trying to keep the government in the dark about a security threat. He didn't plan on the Turians coming early, but the fortifications were in place. My beta asked why the station didn't last very long. That is much easier to explain. As the combat doctrine is to take orbital targets first, the Turians sent their best teams there. The more basic troops were sent to the surface, where the resistance was not expected to be as heavy, and they could call on orbital support. In canon that was what broke the Alliance.

Jack prepared a few things to slow down the Turians further, which leads to Williams not surrendering. This will change a few things for future characters, as well as make the old General rather interesting to talk to. The timeline for this AU is going to change rather rapidly. Anyways, thanks for all of the reading and the time you spend here, even if you don't throw down a review.

Have fun, and enjoy life. Or if you are Jack-Bastard-Harper, enjoy life because you deserve it.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

June 2156, Cerberus Foundation, Luna

The new Cerberus was much more grand than the last time it was founded. Last time it had been in a warehouse on Terra Nova, with less than fifty individuals, and a couple of shuttles for the cause. This time, an entire geodome and underground base on Luna was the starting point. They had a shuttle bay, living quarters, and a training area that rivaled the one on Mars for soldiers. He was touring all of it, as he was the one funding it. The Alliance would pay his people for labor and him for the parts. All at an extremely discounted price that he had no intention of changing. Once they went to peacetime, the shadow war between them and the rest of the council races would start, and they needed something for the Salarians.

That something needed to be developed before the war ended. So, in an emergency session of the Naval Committee, Jack Harper was granted a geodome and personnel to develop technology and agents to combat the alien threat. So, he was being given grants and special rights to ignore certain conventions in favor of creating a special forces branch that could go toe to toe with the alien ones.

In order to do all of this, he had to showcase the one person who did have all of the augmentations. Walking with him towards the main lab chambers was Hannah, who had been in briefings and debriefings for the last week. During that time he had managed to catch up with three of his past partners, including Dierdre, and gotten caught up on his business. It turned out that Reid, noticing that he had gone dark on Shanxi, had actually made a statement about how much Jack was valued by the company, and that his loss would wound them deeply.

Imagine his surprise when Jack came back alive and mostly well. A few bruised ribs and some marks on his face from his beating made his support of the war a very easy choice for the company. When he made a single statement to all of the companies that he had a controlling share in, somewhere around fifteen of the world's more important wartime industries, he made the claim that he had watched Shanxi be turned into a nightmare, and no single building was still standing. With the marks on his face and a crutch in his hand, he played to the emotionally compromised among his stockholders. Pity and shame that their industry might have been able to have a hand in stopping this rose, causing votes to be given slanted towards the warlike stance.

As such, all of his carefully nurtured industries were now fully supported, and were hiring as many people as they could get their hands on. Sales were easy, and the money was flowing. Jack had done his usual ninety hour work week, and for a lot of the people in his companies, the hours worked were rising. The alien threat had come to the economy, and it was booming. Luxury goods were going to be in shorter supply, but Jack could live with half-decent wine for a while. It wasn't like he had been stocking up on it. In fact, one of his houses was just for storing his wine.

"Well, is it everything you've hoped for?" Hannah asked him, clearly enjoying her freedom from constant meetings in the Intelligence offices.

"It is. In fact, our first product is rolling off the line today, and you might be interested."

"Is that your way of saying you made something for me?" She asked with a smirk.

"Considering that you would be the only active agent created by Cerberus, yes. We finally developed a way of getting you some armor and kinetic barriers that don't disrupt your cloak." That got a grin from Hannah.

"Jack! It's about time!"

He nodded. In fact, he had it in the works for before Shanxi, but the Turians showed up far too early to be preferable. If he had the next six years like he was supposed to, then Hannah would have had an Omni-tool with mini-fabricators and grenade creating capacity. Along with armor that worked and the proper tools, Hannah would have been ten times more dangerous. "The first working model of our line of stealth friendly suits. Capable of allowing you to remain cloaked for hours, batteries of the latest line, and magnetic clamps for weapons to be mounted. Along with that, it will also be the first attempt at making something that can be airtight for space-bound troubles. A few minutes of air so that we can rescue you if things get troublesome."

Hannah gave a grin. "Where is it?"

Jack motioned to the wall of lockers. "You are the only one so far. I expect the first batch of recruits tomorrow. Or at least the recruits that are willing to get the first layer of augmentations. Rooms for equipping and gearing up are behind the lockers." He just let her find her way to the locker and gear chamber for female agents.

He didn't have to wait long for her to respond. "Hey Jack!" Came a grunt from her side of the locker room. "Is this for the recruitment posters, or is this just another joke?" When Hannah came walking out of the locker room, it was with her new cloaking suit. Jack might have leaned on the designer to make it a certain way.

They had taken the ceramic compound plating for the arms, legs, and torso. The back was extra reinforced, as it also carried a battery pack that could support long cloaking runs. All of this was mounted on a Vinyl based catsuit, to minimize the amount of energy expended to maintain the cloak. The catsuit was as close to the skin as possible, to achieve this efficiency. All of this lead to Jack being able to see as much of Hannah as he could get away with. She had the decency to look a little uncomfortable.

"No, that seems perfect. Fits you well, and for every bit of it that is skintight, the implants have to do less work to maintain your cloak. The vinyl has a layer to it that creates a charged bond with your skin, and unlike other synthetic fibers that can be shaped as tightly, can hold a static charge. More importantly, the vinyl can be able to extend your field over the armor pieces, which are minimal to preserve freedom of movement."

"Freedom of movement my ass! This thing looks like an exotic dancer's outfit!"

"Your ass does look fine in that. And for the record, exotic dancers wear much less and are cheaper than the cost of producing that. As it hasn't been tested, please cloak and verify that the charge and stealth field can extend through the armor." He did design it correctly. The contours of her twenty-eight year old body were perfectly presented. It just reminded him of his very present bet with her.

She gave him a middle finger and activated her cloak. The field engaged, and rather than the jerky flash that normally accompanied her field activating, it was like watching a zipper move up her body. Finally, the field could function efficiently enough for that to happen. The last thing to be hidden by her cloak was her middle finger, which was supposed to happen. He gave a small clap.

"Alright, good to know that half a million credits of research weren't wasted. What is your opinion?"

She didn't answer for a moment, but he noticed the shimmer of her cloaking field moving about the room, jumping, twisting, and leaping around. She figured out the magnetic boots as well, but couldn't quite conceal the sound. Just to bother her he had added a slight heel to the built in boots. She didn't comment on it, instead jumping off of the wall and tucking and rolling once she hit the floor. The crunch of the armored pieces along her back hitting the floor was loud, and it did disrupt her cloak as she came into a mid lunge. Unlike when she had her previous basic efficiency, the cloaking field didn't make as much noise when it was disrupted.

It also presented a fine view of Hannah from behind. "As much as I hate to say it, it works really well, Jack. Surprisingly capable of everything that you wouldn't expect. The magnetics were a surprise, and the improved motorized joints are very helpful. A lot more power in my legs and it was a bit surprising. I'll have to get used to that and figure out how to roll in this. Hell, it's not even that heavy." Hannah said, flexing her arms.

"So, think you can take this into a battlefield?" Jack asked. "You are going to be on the front lines for when the aliens come back. Think that it will hold up?"

"I'll want something for the temperature of colder places. This thing doesn't seem to hold heat in very well."

Jack nodded. "We are working on that. When you engage the airtight mode, it keeps you a bit warmer for a short time, but the air supply is quite limited. You'll have maybe a minute of air. Not much time to get anything done, but enough to survive. Later versions might have a better filtration system for you to go with, but for now that is all we can fit."

Hannah nodded, and walked back into the locker room. "Well, that's nice. I don't think I'll be using it in public until I find a good trench coat for it, though." She leaned around to corner to wink at him. "Can't let you get too good a look at me, then."

"You do know that our bet still stands." He reminded her. "Whatever is in that 'Widow' system might be the answer to my Prothean theory. The fact that the aliens live there might compound my studies, but I am sure that we will be able to access the place someday. Either that or find out if there are any signs of the Protheans still standing. Fifty thousand years can do some damage to records and buildings."

"When we do find out that you're wrong, how soon will I be getting my ship?" She snarked, her voice echoing from the locker room. "Because I think I might be able to afford it now. You pay very well, you know that Jack?"

"I'll always hire you if you ever need the job back, Hannah." She wouldn't but it was always nice to offer someone a seven digit income. "Though I feel as though you'll be very busy for a long time."

"Probably. I've been asked if I can do more at home for the time being." That meant she had been assigned some intelligence missions related to the Reds back home. With Chiyu Wu being exposed as a supporter, all of her holdings had to be investigated. She employed half a million people in factories and transportation all across Asia. That required a lot of manpower and effort to investigate. Hannah as of course the most desired agent to be sent on any mission they had, as she had the training and the cloaking field.

"When I'm not here, I'll be on the _Talon_ or at the office. You know how to get in contact with me." Jack said, as she came back out of the locker room dressed in her normal clothes. "Don't forget about our bet."

She gave him a winning smile. "Of course I won't. Don't put me up on any of the recruitment posters, then." Of course he would. Cerberus was much nicer and legal this time around. Not to mention he had to showcase his success so far. She showcased it very nicely, as an added bonus. Last time he had a motto to live by. This time he was certain for his new motto for Cerberus. No declaration of terrorist intent, or that sort of thing.

He had debated going with, _Because Humanity deserves the best_, but that didn't fit right. He couldn't go with the xenophobic _Humans are superior to all other races_ this time around, since they had to play a bit nicer. If they wanted anyone to win the Reaper War, everyone would have to be on the same side. The Turians would have to feel like they could trust the Humans, the Salarians would have to overcome the desire to keep the status quo, and the Asari would have to actually share for the first time in centuries. All of that would be hard.

But this was very exciting. Finally something that wasn't dependent upon his memories. This was all new to him, and for once that was exactly what he was looking for. With that in mind, he took out a permanent marker. One thing that had been lost in the many generations since digital technology had been introduced was handwriting skills. His were sadly no better, but were able to translate what he wanted to say easily enough.

_Cerberus_

_Safeguarding the Future of Humanity_

It took him a while to fill in all of the extra large lettering that he had drawn, but then again these walls were twelve feet high. The section he wanted to have the symbol was mostly filled by the lettering by the time he was done. It must have taken more than an hour, and when he finally finished, he could hear one person clapping. There were in fact fifteen people behind him, along with Henry in the crowd. Some of them looked like they didn't want to be there, so they must have been coerced into waiting for him to finish coloring in letters like a small child.

"Henry, you didn't have to make these people have to wait here for me to finish." He reprimanded, coming to that conclusion.

"Bah, they work for you anyways. Or they will. Or won't, if the look that one is giving you remains too long." Henry said, making the offending technician quickly change his outlook. "Cerberus, eh?" He said, giving a look at it. "Give me the pen."

Henry took a little bit to draw something out. Jack watched, but let the workers that wanted to leave go off to their respective jobs. Henry took the area of the wall Jack did not, drawing out a large three headed wolf. Art must have been a hobby at one point. But by the end, it appeared as if a three headed dog was guarding the entrance to the room. Henry even had enough skill to make it feel as if the dog were regal, or protective. That made Jack feel at least a little emotion as Henry stood up.

The three workers that remained clapped, and Jack decided to participate. "I didn't know that you were that great at art." He remarked.

"My hands never shook. Mother told me that I could be anything I wanted. Dad told me he wouldn't pay for a liberal arts degree." Henry grinned. "I went with the option that gave me free college. I don't regret it. It comes in handy sometimes." He brushed his hands off. "Now why did you drag me all the way up here?"

"The Cerberus Foundation has no constraints on the research and development it does, for the sake of Humanity. Which means that any and all of the technologies we develop will be ignoring limitations and rules. I thought you might be interested in helping me create a group of special forces units. They might be interested in paying for the full cloaking and vision package. Since you are the only person I could possibly think of with a hold on that market, I thought you would be interested."

"Interested?!" He blustered. "Hell, I would move in if Helen weren't against that sort of thing! I'll have my boys set up an operating theatre and get equipment sent up. Count me in, Jack. You have been paying me back with interest lately, and I hope this trend continues." He motioned to the three men that were still standing there, and started sectioning out the area of the base that would be for him. "Jack, what do you call this place, anyways?"

"Oh, lets be realistic. There is always only one name for Cerberus's first location. This will be Tartarus Station. Can't have our three headed dog living outside of Hell, now, can we." Jack joked. "Before you leave to grab your mobile lab platform, I think you should attend the welcoming ceremonies. You'll be very interested in what I have to say."

Henry nodded, and continued sectioning out the parts of the base he thought he would need. Jack would give him a lot of space, but he would need some for himself as well. A lot of experimental weapons and armor were going to be coming out of here. Since the rule on him being able to avoid certain laws only applied to this station, they would need a very good machine shop and weapons factory. A very small one, but it would be needed. Perhaps some irradiated ammunition blocks, along with some other things. The Turians needed to fear what Humanity could field, as they were outmatched in space too easily. He tallied all of that, and then looked out at where the dome sat above their workspace. It would be a tight fit for everything after it was all said and done.

He sent a notification to the base's PA system via his Omni-tool. It felt good to be able to wear that freely again. Having his communications monitored but not directly controlled by someone else was also nice. Not seeing Hannah on a daily basis would be sad, but he needed her to go her own way. Julia and Miranda were nearly to the point that they could be raised outside of their life support units. She didn't need to know about her biological daughters yet, or perhaps at all. It would be better if they didn't have that kind of influence in their lives.

Not to say that they wouldn't benefit from having a mother, but they would only receive the wrong kind of message from Hannah. She was a bit of a blunt instrument, to be wielded by those in control of higher power. Her profile and mental state in his memories was one of stability and independent thinking. She was eventually a flag officer, someone who could handle the responsibility of leading thousands of troops into battle. This time she didn't have that. Her parents didn't die of natural causes, and she didn't settle down and raise a family with Greg. She went into Intelligence instead of the Navy, who treated her like a pawn. As such, her mental state was unsuitable for raising children. Rather terrible, but for the sake of Humanity certain things had to be done.

The PA system screeched from the walls. _"All personnel, please report to briefing room one, All personnel, report to briefing room one."_ Jack walked down the hallway to the briefing room, as the three hundred people on base all filed in. The room could seat maybe a thousand, but more likely just six hundred. It was halfway filled by the time everyone showed up, and Jack walked towards the podium. All eyes were on him, and he reveled in it.

He took a string, and put a beaded cord through one side, and wrapped it gently around his neck. The beaded cord rested on top of his adam's apple, and strained his vocal cords lightly. It was necessary for what he was about to say. From the podium, he raised the microphone, and brought it up close to his face.

Then, in perfect Turian, he snarled and growled his message. _"Greetings to all pyjaks."_ In the audience, some people were confused, thinking this some kind of joke. Anyone who had heard the alien's communications couldn't understand him, but knew exactly where that came from. He refrained from saying more, as it might be a little suspicious if he was perfectly fluent in Turian months after first contact. He undid the cord on his neck, setting it down on the podium.

"Welcome to what is now the Cerberus Foundation. My name is Jack Harper, and I will be your supplier, director, and personally responsible for all of what we do here. What I just spoke was Turian, heavily accented due to the fact that they have two sets of vocal cords. No human can speak truly as they do without some pressure being applied directly to those cords, and even then our vocabulary will always be limited. Part of what you will learn here, if you decide to stay with us, will be the Turian language and computing language. Their binary is based off of a sixteen base digit code. It is long, complicated, and detailed. Strangely enough, their technology for computers is only a few years ahead of us. For an alien race this is nearly a crime, but for us this is our greatest advantage."

He paced away from the podium, not enjoying just standing there. "Their sector of space is heavily fortified, with only two relays leading to their colonies and homeworld. To be able to assault either of those two locations will take the entire might of the Second Fleet. Our offensive options are limited. In terms of numbers and population, we can threaten them. But in terms of fleet and weapon technology, they will have the advantage. They apparently will always have the advantage if they can raid us like they did on Shanxi." There were some hard stares after that statement. "Shanxi, to them, was just a raid. They can do that over and over again until we break, and they did so with no major losses of ships and personnel. They lost a cruiser, four frigates, and a few hundred soldiers. We lost twice that many ships, and somewhere over one hundred and fifty thousand people."

He brought up the image of a naked Turian. "That cannot be how this conflict emerges. They can simply raid us and break us down piece by piece. As such, from this facility we will develop counter-intrusion programs. We will develop the newest and strongest weapons that Humanity can make. We will make the armor that our troops go into combat with. Lastly, we will create and train the special forces agents that will do what no one else can. That is the function of Cerberus."

He pointed at the Turian image on screen. It had been taken after General Williams had beheaded one of the Turians, and their body had been stripped and a full autopsy had been done. Williams had kept the head of the two Turians he had beheaded, with some old fashioned sword no less. Other bodies had been brought in by Hannah. This was one of those bodies. The stab wound to the side of the neck revealed its cause of death. "This is the enemy we are facing. Their skin has two major layers, one of which provides some protection against radiation and works like the scale of a reptile. Their sweat glands do not function as efficiently as human ones, meaning that any rapid changes in temperature they have a hard time adapting to. Their armor is rated for deep space as well as intense heat, so this won't be of much use unless we are fighting them on the ground. Their armor plating is on average half an inch thick, or rather for those of you with metric systems their armor is roughly between 1.5 and 2 centimeters thick. It is constructed with thick layers of ceramically formed Palladium and synthetic fibers. The motors inside the joints are not exposed, like they are in our armors currently. Cerberus has some of the few armors recovered from the battlefield of Shanxi, and we have a responsibility to create something from that."

He pushed a button on his Omni-tool, shifting the slide to a symbol that many people recognized. "This Foundation would like to thank those of you for coming. We have recruited all of the members of the once infamous Kassa Fabrications corporation. As we need the most dangerous weapons for our troops, we have brought the best. Between Kassa Fabrications, who have been nearly convicted of war crimes and breaking the modified Geneva Conventions, as well as Markov Heavy Industries, we have the ability to supply the best. I don't want weapons that follow normal conventions. I don't want mods that are expected to be humane."

"We are going to make weapons and anything else that will give us an edge in this. They didn't give us any quarter on Shanxi, and we sure as hell won't receive any when they come back. So, make the nastiest and most lethal things you can. I didn't hire the worst and most criminal weapons producers on Earth just to watch as we lost colonies. As for pay, don't worry about that. Request any and all materials you need and they will get here. The special forces will be perfectly willing to test and use anything that you come up with."

He then brought up the picture of the ruined planet of Shanxi. "Some of you will be working on construction and building materials that can stand up to their small arms fire. Most of their weapons had enough punch to go right through our defensive plating onboard Taurus Station. Our teams were unable to cause sufficient casualties or stop any of the boarding parties that took the station. So, for our defensive orbital stations, we will need better defensive plating. We will need better turrets and defenses. They enemy has shown a willingness to board and take our orbital defenses rather than take losses to them. We need to make this our first line of defense, and so some of you will be working on making that a reality."

He brought up a last slide. This was of Hannah. It had been taken using his Omni-tool as she had been testing the suit from earlier. The slide was the first frame of a small video clip showcasing her movements. The clip was only of the portions that were visible, and as such, ended with her giving him the middle finger and telling him that he couldn't use this for recruitment. The rest of the audio he muted. They didn't need to know that. Lip readers might take advantage of this, but oh well. He froze the slide on that, of her striking a pose and giving a middle finger to the camera.

"This is our only fully augmented agent. She is capable of night vision, augmented reflexes, and has a cloaking field. As you can see, she is showcasing our newest developed armor. It assists with the cloaking field and can extend it over larger weapons, unlike if she was just doing so herself. Many of the agents that we create will be this model, labeled Infiltrator. Other models of augmentations will be introduced as time goes on. The enemy soldiers have their own classifications, which will be covered in your meetings as necessary. As of right now, welcome to Cerberus." He said this to them in Turian as well, to prove a point. "We are going to do whatever we can to protect Humanity, and if you aren't here to do that, I expect your letter of resignation on my desk tomorrow morning. If you have questions please email them to this public forum in the local server. Someone will answer you, and my time is not to be wasted by the trivial or unimportant questions. If you have a legitimate question, for example, 'Are we allowed to use biological agents?' that would be a worthwhile question. The answer is yes, and I have already forwarded the materials that would be most effective to team leads. I expect you to be professional and prompt in your work. Fifty hour weeks are expected, with full benefits. Our head of security is Lt. Anthony, who will now brief us on the security procedures and rules."

Jack replaced the microphone and let the mountain of a man that was Anthony go through the security associated with Tartarus. He just walked out of the auditorium, motioning to Henry as he did so. The man gleefully left the room, as his time was important too. His technicians he left in the hands of Anthony, as he went through the security briefing.

"How long did it take to learn all that?" Henry asked. "You were always good with languages, but that must have been difficult."

"I made myself hoarse just getting the vowels down. General Williams asked me what I was doing in the bathroom one day, and I told him that I was trying to learn something helpful. We were in the middle of a siege at the time, and a lot of people were doing things to maintain their sanity. Snarling and growling at the bathroom mirror must have seemed tame." Henry was having a good laugh about it.

"Oh, they are going to love the language lessons you are going to give them." He said, still laughing. "Do you have some time? Helen wanted to invite you over for dinner." He didn't often invite someone to his house for dinner.

"I can make time for friends as good as you two. How is Grace?" Grace Constantine was their adopted daughter, and the first cloned or created human from the process invented by Henry. She was finally catching up to the maturity level of how old she was. At least as far as Jack knew.

"She is crawling, by God. She sleeps rather nicely, thanks to spending so much time with her parents." Jack smirked. Creating a joke that her tube was the only responsible parent that she had was not very tasteful, but it had stuck. "She is loud, a good set of lungs on her. Turns out that her namesake happened to be quite the singer, so I think we will cultivate that."

Jack smiled at that. Kids were wonderful. He had no idea how to raise them, but they always looked cute enough. "Sounds nice enough. James has the shuttle ready for us if you feel like riding." Jack had keywords for different situations James should be prepared for. He had it hotkeyed in his Omni-tool for that reason.

"Perfect. I'll just leave mine for the technicians. Plus, I can always appreciate James and his manners. If he wasn't one of those American types I would say he was a proper Brit." James was easy to like. Optimistic, logical, and had a streak of ambition in him that made him fly as fast as legally and illegally possible. Jack liked that. It was worth the tickets and citations that piled up.

Henry had his Omni-tool out, now that he had finally gotten one. He was typing out his response to the pilot of whatever shuttle he brought. "Think I can have seating for the operating theatre?"

"No, of course not. We need all the area we can get for the other requirements. What kind of audience were you expecting? Just send it via camera."

"Damn." Henry said. "Just seeing how much space I could get. I get the feeling I'll be up here quite a bit. You can't blame me for being at least a little greedy."

"Of course I can." Jack said, both of them giving each other a look. "But we both owe the other a few favors. If you want to have some seats you can have them put in, but try not to disrupt anything else going on. The firing range will be right next door to you."

"Ah, so I'll have to worry about getting shot at in addition to all the trouble these muscle heads are going to give me."

James had the doors open by the time they got to the hangar, and the entire craft was ready to go. Jack hopped in first, enjoying the full sized leather seats with the wine glasses already topped off. Henry sat down in his own seat, to clink his own glass against Jack's. "I happen to have a very interesting business venture to recommend to you. Have you ever heard of the Sirta group? They just started collecting investors a few weeks ago. I think you should go in with me on it."

Henry drank some of the wine before answering. "Well, Jack, if you are getting involved, the money is sure to come. Anything you seem to touch goes someplace. How much are we talking?"

"I was thinking all of my liquid investments. So somewhere around two hundred million." Henry did stop drinking at that.

"Jack, I don't have that kind of money to play with. That is serious. For you too, even!"

"Sirta can develop something that might mitigate the possibility of coagulation and death during your augmentation process. If you partnered with them, your augmentations can become safe enough for general doctors to install. Operational risks go down enough for legality. So, still think its too much?"

"Quite the risk taker, Jack." Henry put the wine glass down. "I'll have to dig up some money for this. But considering your history, you've never done me wrong before. Helen will want to know about this before I make a decision. But keep your hopes up. This Sirta better deliver."

Oh, it would. Earlier than it was supposed to, but Medi-gel was too useful to ignore the need for it. It had changed Humanity's place in the Galaxy with just its presence alone. Saving the lives of soldiers on the battlefield that would normally not make it back to a doctor. It would be the turning point for them now, as the Turians had such a strong advantage currently. Sirta would need to be there when Humanity went to the rest of the Galaxy. The Asari couldn't dominate their medical and biotic market with its presence alone. The Turians would feel threatened by their ingenuity, and the Salarians would try to replicate it on their side as fast as they could. Sirta was the key. He would personally make sure it survived contact with the galactic market.

"James, take us down to Melbourne. We've been invited to dinner." James didn't reply, as he was probably clearing their departure with the dock master.

"What about your girl Hannah?" Henry asked.

"She has more important problems to deal with. If we see her, it will be on the recruitment posters." That reminded him, he had to send those pictures in to the Alliance Intelligence Office. He sent the one with her in her skintight armor and giving the camera a middle finger. He would let them caption it. He would probably hear about this later, but right now he didn't care. Hannah was going to be a shining example of the new Cerberus. Now if only he could have gotten that wonderful symbol back. The rest of the Foundation liked the three headed dog better. Oh well. Nothing was always perfect. Democracy could backfire on you sometimes.

August, 2156, Tartarus Station

Armistice. Ceasefire. Terrible words to most of his investors, who were gearing up for a big war, but not for him. The First Contact War was finally over. The Turians were forced to back down when the Council realized that this new race had some teeth. The Second Fleet had been ravaged by the Turian offensive, but managed to blunt it enough that when the Turians got to Arcturus, human numbers and a second dreadnaught drove them off. They even killed one of the enemy's dreadnaughts and its entire support fleet. Unfortunately, that just got the Turians excited. They hadn't had a real enemy to crush and defeat in centuries. For Turians, this was exciting.

They had been handed a defeat, yes. But that had woken them up. Now the Turians were gearing up for war, when Earth had already geared up. Once the Turian war machine was awakened, it couldn't be completely turned off. Thankfully, some Asari had gotten involved and calmed down both sides. Humanity's special forces were very effective, and only had two operations for the duration of the war.

One was a boarding action on a downed Turian cruiser. Some nasty business, but they managed to take it with five to one casualties. Even then, it had been bad. The experimental weapons and armor had performed adequately or miserably. Hannah wasn't assigned to that, thankfully.

Not many of their weapons came back from that. Turian ships had turrets installed in all the boarding docks that were armored, and took tanks or equivalently heavy weapons to damage. That was where the most casualties were lost. All of those turrets were destroyed, but they managed to get some information on them anyways. The Turians fought hard for any piece of rock they managed to get ahold of, even planetoids. They were forced to destroy the entire Alliance infrastructure within the Shanxi system, to deny them the ability to refuel there. A few more years of backpedaling for the investments there. Jack lost millions to it all. Either companies disagreeing with his warlike tendencies, or just simply products failing, Jack lost three of his largest contracted companies.

The other action that their special operations team got to be involved in was retaking Taurus Station. That was bloodier. Hannah was involved that time, and managed to make it out with her first and second purple heart medals. She was sent back to the doctors on the first day of the action, and recovered, coming back again to the doctor on the fourth day. She was shot in the shoulder and through the lung. Jack and Henry were ready to fly there to help the doctors operate, and ostensibly to show off Cerberus for Jack. They weren't sent for, nor were they alerted of the second injury to her shoulder.

She spent the rest of the war in casts. She was still around, but Jack nor Henry saw her. She did leave Jack a note in his office, somehow getting past all of his security forces. The note just reminded him that she was alright, and that he was thanked for asking. He replied using her supposedly private account that he was glad she was alright, and that he looked forward to sleeping with her. As always.

The best part of the recent news was that the Alliance sacked Ross. She disappeared one night, after a rather pointed debate in the justice hearings. The Senate didn't sack her, but someone did. She was replaced by some generic suit and tie that was more focused on the war than domestic affairs. Data had been released soon after her sacking that she had wasted millions of credits searching for members of the Reds during the war, instead of focusing her efforts on the Turians. That might have been staged information, but Jack had done his level best to manipulate the information towards that. The Reds were going to be quiet for a while. With aliens and a whole new galaxy to play in, they might not even try for earth anymore. There were plenty of places they could escape to. In fact, he might just point some of them towards a few locations. If the Reds were between the Alliance and the Batarians, that might curb losses and generate sympathy for the Alliance to aid them.

Or it might just create a gigantic human paramilitary movement that wipes out the citadel and ruins his plans. He knew that it sounded too familiar to be comfortable. Cerberus tried that, but it never got off the ground. More like it was too late. Jack had gotten Indoctrinated by that point, and the goals shifted ever so subtly away from stopping the Batarians towards shooting humanity in the proverbial foot. No, the Reds would not be allowed to go out on their own. Or perhaps he might have to send the Skyllian Blitz early. But he didn't want Julia to have to go through that unless absolutely necessary.

She would be one of those people who had to be at the right spot at the right time. He didn't think he could predict where that would be. But for certain she would be well prepared for it. His musings were interrupted by a loud hiccup.

"Am I doing this wrong?" He asked the assistant on hand. "Or is that normal?"

In his arms was Julia. She was tiny, and made unpredictable squealing sounds. Her sister was going to be the next out of the tube, but for now it was just Julia. She had bright blue eyes, the same piercing color as his own. Her hair was a mess of reddish brown fuzz at this point, but it was there. Humanity had a future again. That brought a sense of completion to him.

There was a wetnurse here, hired to take care of both of the babies. She had no real notice of this, and was hired only hours before. She was well paid, and had no previous warning that this would happen. But she did sign the non disclosure agreement, supposedly because of the nature of his work. It did cover things about the children as well.

"Mister Harper, she doesn't have a normal anything at this point! She was just born!" He had told her that the mother didn't want the children. Technically true, but only due to misinformation. Hannah would probably enjoy children, but the life he had fixed for her did not allow for the time to raise them. "You just hold her and get comfortable. You've got some time ahead of you."

"Well, then. Last time around I didn't care about any children, so this time I think I'll give it my best shot. It's nice to meet you Julia, I'm your dad." Julia didn't really respond, just blinking at the moment. The world was a very big place, and she was very small. But she was very nice to hold, and he could feel some sort of emotional reaction to her. it was very odd, to say the least.

This was a very new feeling. His whole being felt like it was vibrating a little bit, down to the tips of his fingers. Looking closely, he couldn't see any sort of motion of that nature happening. Very odd.

He could hear the nurse cooing at Miranda as she was brought out of her bed. "Come on, your dad has two arms. He wants to hold you, too." The nanny brought over Miranda, who he cradled in his left arm. Now that feeling just kept going, and it felt rather surreal. Then it all ended when there was a small flash of light and the nurse took a picture of him.

"Aww, you are such a dear!" He was less than amused with the nurse at the moment. "You're going to be a fine father!" That much was true, but Jack was probably going to hire a different nurse along the way. This one was just too comfortable in getting into his personal life. But he was holding the hope of the human race in his arms.

"Julia Constantine Harper. That's your name, and you'll never shy away from it. You'll be the best hero that I can make you into. As for your sister, you'll have to protect her. She won't be quite the same hero as you, but she will get the things that you can't be seen doing done."Julia didn't respond, but then again she wasn't truly coherent. Miranda gurgled quite loudly in his other arm. "Miranda Persephone Harper, you will be your sister's sword. To protect her where she cannot predict. I'll give you every tool to do just that."

Nothing responded for a long moment. Then the nurse raised her voice. "That sounds awful dreary for baby talk, Mister Harper."

"Who referred you?" He asked calmly.

"Oh! Mister Smythe referred me to your care." Mr. Smythe was a butler, and apparently didn't understand the meaning of _get me a respectable nurse_.

"Wonderful. You're both fired." There. Now he felt much better. Much more like his normal self. All of this fatherhood was confusing him. Now he needed a new butler and a new nurse. _That_ was a problem he could realistically deal with. He had no idea how to raise children, and the books about them were all so boring and droll that he didn't particularly care about that. Besides, he could always get some assistance from the millions of parenting books that had been published in the last hundred years. He might have one of the interns summarize them up for him.

Author's Note

A little shorter this week, but I assure you that things are going to move faster now that the galaxy feels a little bigger. Humanity is being fleshed out rather well, and the next on our list of groups to investigate is the rest of the galaxy. Though to those of you who guessed, yes there was a Daddy-Jack. But he wasn't going to do it normally, because when has Jack Harper ever done anything normal? If given the choice between food he wouldn't like at a five star restaurant or a greasy burrito barn that he is actually craving, Jack will take the five star restaurant every time. Just to keep his image. For people in the sensitive location of being very rich and somewhat transparent about their activities, they have to keep their image.

Billionaires and Millionaires have to go through this to some degree. I don't imagine that changing as the digital world becomes even more transparent in the intervening century and a half to Mass Effect. So Jack always has to worry about that level of transparency, since his companies and owned assets are all in very highly media focus companies. Hannah doesn't have that problem, and can afford to be more impulsive. Any bets on how the kids will turn out?


	10. Chapter 10

Hey guys, now that I've introduced the kids, I have set up a poll for you to decide the background of Julia C. Harper. Please go check out my profile page and vote for what kind of background you would prefer and have fun with it. If you have any other input about that, feel free to comment with a review. Thanks!

Chapter 10

April, 2164, Tartarus Station

Jack Harper was a much different man than he was five years ago. He had changed a little bit. By a little bit that meant he tried to be nicer when his girls were around. That was a lot more often, ever since the first attempt on their life. Someone decided to mail him some sort of mail bomb. It was either an attempt on his life or on theirs, and as far as his staff knew the mail parcel had been unmarked.

He knew there would be attempts. But having small children really made that felt more deeply. So now his office and living chamber in Tartarus had an extension for the girls. Tutors were cheap. But having two nine year old girls with genius level IQ's made their education very important. Miranda was smarter than Julia by far, and was being sent onto her third language. She had Human basic(English) as well as Asari basic. She was now learning the troublesome language that was Chinese. Julia was having trouble learning Asari, and had tried Turian. Humans couldn't quite get their tones right until puberty had completed, as their vocal cords were too limited.

Julia did have her father's eyes, as well as a red-brown head of hair. Miranda had the raven hair and blue eyes that he was so proud to have himself. Both of them were as they were designed. Perfect examples of what a hero should be. A nine year old hero with dreams of being the next Admiral Dreschen. Miranda didn't have as much hero worship problems, but then again she had a strong desire for any and all books. She devoured them, but strangely didn't like reading from the datapad as much as from paper books.

The walls of his girl's room were filled with books, where they didn't have a stash of weapons hidden. No one really entered there, so Jack used those walls to hide his own personal weapons that were declared illegal after the Council accepted Humanity into their midst. That went much different this time around. Rather than approaching Humanity and offering them safety from the rampaging Turian warmachine, they offered to mediate their troubles. He could still remember the words of the Turian Primarch.

_"In this Humanity we can see a worthy foe, one that has not acted dishonorably towards us. We aggressively tried to enforce Citadel Law, and for our attack we were justly repulsed. We do not hold Humanity accountable for the losses we incurred, nor do we hold them to blame for any of the damages we experienced. They only sought to defend themselves, and their region of space. Any and all damages caused by the assault upon their planet will be reimbursed to them, and we look forward to a long and continued peace with them."_

Lying bastard. With one hand they offered peace, and with the other they reinforced their borders so that Alliance teams couldn't enter their area of space. The reparations and reimbursed costs were all at the galactic standard, as determined by the Volus Protectorate. Of course that favored the Turians, as casualties were not factored into the damages. When they complained, they were told rather gruffly by the banking representative that they were lucky the Council had called them off.

The Volus saw a profit somewhere, and through them they only got enough money to replace the cost of materials and labor to install the new colony buildings. Of course based on galactic standard. Cheap labor and even cheaper materials. So just like the first time Humanity had been screwed by that. Shanxi was now a colony in slow growth stages. The best land and territory was so riddled with craters and debris that it was unusable for farming or implementation for a long time yet.

Which brought him to today. He had the most interesting vidmail waiting for him. _The Alliance needs five volunteers to be posted indefinitely to the Citadel. We have an ambassador that will be going there to sign a treaty and nothing can afford to injure them. This vidmail details the needs and requirements of those who may volunteer._ The Vidmail would logically go through the list of things they didn't want their agents involved in. Hannah was right off the list, as she had weapons and a history of killing Turians.

He grinned. This wasn't that hard. But he knew from his memories that this was going to be Humanity's first major signing of the Treaty of Firaxen. They would agree to Citadel conventions, and become an associate race. The thousands of doors that would open in the next months were going to be a perfect opportunity. Humanity, even though it got attacked by the Turians six years early, still were only prepared to follow Citadel conventions in 2164. That mostly had to do with disarming weapons of mass destruction that had been created in light of the war with the Turians, as well as their economy needing the time to prepare for a scale of foreign investment that no one could prepare for adequately.

It hadn't been pretty last time, and Jack had viewed it as just another STG attempt to control something in lieu of the Council. Asari investments, Salarian cheap technology, and Turian weapons were about to flood their market. Drugs from Omega and Illium had already been in motion towards Earth and her colonies. That had been fun to identify, yes indeed.

Part of disarmament had been to put away all of the truly terrible biological weapons that they had developed to kill Turians. The only other race that would be affected as strongly were the Quarians, but they were easy to kill already. Creating biological agents for a group of people that already had a weak immune system was useless. Plus, their numbers were too low to be a threat to anyone. Even the Geth would win in an open war against them. But knowing that the Reapers would be using the easily-corrupted Geth made contact with the Quarians a necessary evil.

They would be the only people who developed disruptor ammo. A few other groups had it, yes, but the Quarians were the best at it. Humanity needed those for the Geth. He had discreetly purchased a few to try them out, and against organics they were just weak. Turrets and automated defenses were torn apart, though, which made the use of the ammo perhaps useful. Not enough to become a generally produced mod for their weapons, but it was a start.

He had until 2183. That was when Sovereign would become truly active. Right now it was just out there, hiding. Perhaps it was already active at this point, but as far as Cerberus had found in his memories, Saren had been under the control of the Reapers for a long while. Whether it was from the Reaper directly or not was unknown. His body and records were lost in the battle of the Citadel. As far as Jack could remember, Saren Arterius was actively prepared to use the Geth and Sovereign long before Eden Prime.

He had been looking for him, though. Cerberus had considered him a serious threat at that time. Right now though, with Hannah having killed him, he didn't know who the Reapers would use as a chief agent. He knew that Sovereign would, though. Harbinger worked the same way, multiple times. He could personally attest to this.

He had seen Saren on Shanxi. He had seen his brother too, who had been involved in some terrible things in his memories. But with the Alliance holding on for eleven days instead of less than three, the Turians never held the area long enough to reinforce anything. Once he saw Saren Arterius on the battlefield, he got his attention. That had been easy. No matter what race you were, when someone throws a rock at your head, it gets your attention.

He had clipped the side of Saren's helmet. That had been a terrible idea in hindsight. Saren was a brutal combatant with an anger problem. Jack needed some medical help after Saren beat him within an inch of his life. But he knew that Hannah was coming to save him. She had said so before the communications ran out. So, he planted himself in the path of Saren. He staged Saren finding his Omni-tool, and then taking it. Once he had it, Hannah wouldn't even look the other way in her haste to stop Humanity's secrets from falling into the hands of the enemy.

She had done perfectly. Saren was a front line combatant, a Spectre candidate. He didn't prepare himself for all of the completely dishonorable things that humans would do to survive. Most spectres did the assassinations themselves, and weren't the kind to expect house calls. So, at the cost of one brutal beating, he had spared Humanity from the actions of Saren. He would kill as many of them as he could over the next twenty years, and jack had no intention of letting him continue like this.

Hannah had no idea what she had removed from the galaxy. The youngest and most promising spectre in the history of their service was dead and gone before he could become a threat. Jack drank quite heavily to that. After he had recovered from the injuries. Strangely enough, in his memories he remembered getting injured a lot less. It was a curious occurrence, as this time he hadn't gone through his time in the military.

Over the last few years, he had been tied down to mostly Cerberus and his family. His daughters were important, and deserved every minute of his time that he could give. His work suffered due to that, yes, but it was much more rewarding knowing that every minute reading _Real Men Hug Aliens_ and _Starship Troopers 13_ returned later. All of the girl's reading was directed towards convincing them that aliens were completely friendly, but had their own interests that might not match your own.

Or at least he tried. Trying to predict children and their interests was hard. They were his offspring, so of course they were stubborn. They were too smart for their own good, too. Their tutors had to be very sharp to catch them at it. Thankfully the tutors were all members of Cerberus. They all were supposed to be smarter than children. Even the most gifted children he could possibly create, but that might be stacking the odds against them. To be fair he egged them on to try to trick their tutors, to surprise them, and most importantly to learn what their tutors held back from saying. For them and their goals in life, what people avoided saying would be more important than what they actually said.

They attended Cerberus classes on language, surveillance, and body language of aliens. No one in those classes realized, as the girls could just use the cameras. That way he could filter what the girls saw and heard. It wouldn't do for them to hear about the most efficient ways to kill aliens yet. Once they got into the armed services they could focus on that. Right now they needed to see them as people, so that when diplomacy was necessary they could use it.

His girls were the best that he could make them. Other than some unhealthy attraction towards some of the men on base, he was comfortable with them being able to do what they wanted. They even had some kids their own age on base, now that Cerberus employees could bring their families up here. Adding more to the base had been necessary when the Alliance requested that all of their special forces go through here for armament and class training. Every infiltrator in the Alliance came through here, as well as the new class that would be coming through soon.

"Sir, they're here." Came a notice from his secretary. That woman was one of the more daring people he had met up here. She had washed out of training but wanted to keep her access in Alliance systems. So she had become a secretary. She had control over who could and couldn't get into the offices of the people who lead the Cerberus Foundation. Her name was Jean Louis. Not the kindest sort of woman, and very much a married woman. He had no intention of treating her like some of his other secretaries. Most importantly because she was the genetic parent of one of the most powerful biotics in history.

Little Jennifer wasn't dragged off to Pragia and her death concealed from her parents this time. Jennifer Louis would never be subject zero in this life. She was quite the little terror, however. Julia liked her well enough. This time, Jack swore to never have to share his name with someone who labeled herself as the 'Psychotic Biotic'. Plus, all of the reports on Jennifer so far showed that she had all of the same performance indicators. None of the mental trauma and biotic conditioning, but all of the social needs were met. Tartarus Station just had a way of bringing the real world out more clearly.

Jennifer was going to be a strong biotic, just like everyone else he had earmarked. This time, though, there would be no Biotic Acclimation and Training camp. Humanity didn't deserve to suffer under a bigoted Turian teacher. More importantly, Tartarus Station had just finished its newest addition. They had just finished the Solaris wing of the base, dedicated to the growing biotic population of Humanity. With basic human nervous systems being clone-capable, Henry Lawson had generated a way of testing biotic amps on patients without breaking too many laws. It just took three years and a few million credits per clone to make them. Three years to grow them and then they would last perhaps two years. Not long enough to warrant any brain activity, and so much of their life span was testing biotic impulses.

Jack had come up with this expensive plan, and after being exposed to the rest of the galaxy, the Alliance decided to fund it. No human test subjects were needed. Not to mention he kept leaving oddly placed clues and hints as to where the research should go. Doing so anonymously took time and effort, as well as a lot of fake bank accounts, but it worked well enough. No one had called him on his sleuthing around Alliance personnel yet. Perhaps they approved. Or they approved of what little they could see of it.

Who knew. Going in to find out would only raise concern for what he was doing, so it was safer and more profitable to just go forward. If he got notified about it, well at that point he would act. Until then, it wasn't worth raising trouble.

"Send them in. I think they've waited long enough to get here." Jack paged to his secretary, after removing any signs of his daughters on his desk or in his office. Sometimes they liked to cause him trouble with that. He grinned at the thought of what he was about to do.

Coming into his office were three Asari. Blue skinned, comfortable with their physical forms, and curious about Humanity. Perfect. Or at least it would be if they went along with his plan.

"Jack Harper. We are pleased to meet you." Said the lead Asari, who was wearing a nice looking dress with black highlights on the shoulders. "When we received your invitation, we were quite pleased to come. You asked for someone competent in biotics?"

"Of course. I do thank you for coming here. I expected to see one of your commandoes or representatives, instead of actually seeing a Matriarch come. As such, I can offer what seems to be pleasant." Jack pulled out a bottle of his best wine. He knew from his memories that this worked equally well on Salarians, Humans, Elcor, and Asari. Drunk Elcor were entertaining to see try to walk. This wine, however, he knew would be to their tastes. "This is from a vineyard with over a thousand years of heritage. For our race, there are few older brands that exist. This bottle is as old as I am, and has aged properly." He pulled off the cork, which came as a surprise to the Asari. Their wines were contained in different containers. Corks and other such necessities had been mostly done away with in their culture.

He poured four glasses. One for himself and one for each of his three visitors. "Matriarch T'Soni, welcome to Earth." Behind him, his office was angled so that the window was always facing his homeworld. He was prideful and vain about it, sure. Living on a dome on the moon could do that for you.

"It is a nice little paradise." She said, remarking on the planet in the window. She did try the wine, as did her escorts. Judging by the looks on their faces, they were pleasantly surprised. "I was pleased that your race managed to hold back the Turian offensives."

"Not for a lack of effort. They are just as stubborn as we are when they decide to do something. While we did hold them off, we did manage to have one of our main producing colonies leveled."

Benezia T'soni nodded. Jack Harper had never met her. Not in this life or his memories. But Shepard had made mention in her reports that Benezia went to Saren with the intent of saving him. So she was knowledgeable, inquisitive, and very understanding. To see what the Council didn't must have taken some close connections. Too bad the rogue spectre was dead. "I have lived through much of the problems that have plagued my race. Especially the ones related to the newer races." She finally sat in the offered chair, which meant that Jack could sit down. "Which begs the question of why you asked me for this."

"I needed someone trusted that I could ask. We are about to be training the very first human biotics. Rather than ask the Turians for help, which might be politically helpful, I decided to ask the Asari. Your race is naturally biotic, and after looking in some of the old files, I saw that you were involved with teaching the Quarians how to use biotics when they first came into the galactic envelope. That made you very qualified."

Benezia outright laughed. It was a deep laugh, but not unsettling. "You must have traded the Shadow Broker for information about my maiden years." Either that or he had knowledge from the future. "You want me to come and teach your children? You would trust the Asari that much?"

"I am willing to pay an Asari to train our first generation of biotics. That does not mean they would be trusted. As you were allied with the Turians, I know that if Humanity had gone on the offensive, you would have been dragged into the conflict."

She gave him a neutral look. "I voted that we mobilize along with the Turians. Alas, we were voted down. So, do you trust me enough to hire our services?" Jack didn't know that. But now that he was aware it made sense. She was one of the few impulsive Matriarchs that were willing to go against the normal principles. She was one of the more outspoken Matriarchs.

"You are one of the more liberal thinking Matriarchs. Just because you wanted to mobilize doesn't mean that you were going to attack us. The Batarians are just as deserving a target for your fleets." Jack didn't see any change of emotion for any of them. His guess must have been off, then. The Asari didn't have many direct threats, however. If they thought the Turians needed help, then they might have been in for a land grab on some of the areas of Alliance Space. That seemed more likely.

"You assume much, Mr. Harper. The Asari Republics did not feel as though mobilization was needed. Too many voted against direct interaction. But to come to me means that you don't seek more traditional instruction for your biotic learners."

"Traditional isn't what Humans want. If anything, we enjoy shaking up the general market. We like to be unique. That is the kind of teaching style we are looking for. You were at the top of our lists for possible teaching sources, and if not you there were a few other Asari groups we wished to approach. If all of you refused, we will approach the Turians and get their support. It might not be the best solution, but we have the first wave of biotics coming here in less than eight weeks."

"You want to hire Asari from my organization?"

"I want to hire Asari with commando training and experience fighting Batarians, really." Jack said offhandedly. Let them interpret that as they will. He just wanted the most effective training that he could get the initiates. The Batarians were just the most dishonorable fighters that civilized people could get experience fighting. Only the best and most efficient tactics could win when the enemy didn't care for casualties or collateral damage. That was the kind of training he wanted human biotics to have.

"So, you thought that the commandos from my organization would be most suitable? Our actions are mostly religious in nature."

Jack smiled. There was an obvious trap to step into. Her Siari based religion that she ascribed to was growing very quickly, and some elements of the Asari government did not enjoy the threat to their precious Athame. Since it was mostly a colonial religion, a pirate raid was staged on one of their main planets. Nothing like a Batarian Pirate raid to prove a religion wrong. Benezia caught wind of it and sent her commandos in to end the threat.

Her commandos did have that kind of experience. She just wasn't about to outright claim it when supposed 'mercenary organizations' had fought off the invaders. It was all still a very touchy subject for the Asari government. Siari was still touchy, as it had only risen up in the last thousand years or so. Benezia was one of the few members of the older generation that supported the growing religion.

So instead of walking into that trap, he chose a different direction. "I only ask for three of your commandos to come and teach a few dozen human children. If what I hope for succeeds, I will happily donate time and materials to your own organization. If that is what you want in exchange for the time and personnel, I am perfectly happy about that."

"What I want, Mr. Harper, is access to your Prothean Archive. When you can secure that for me, then you'll have your trainers."

Well. Damn.

To get her a pass to the Mars Archive, which would be a required thing to share once they became a Council race, was difficult. It was one of the most secure facilities that their race had. It was the first to receive the newest and most capable sensors. Salarian STG had been sighted in some of their systems, and they had been sleuthing around. None had been sighted directly at Earth, but Jack could see the signs of their actions. Sirta Foundation had been probed and audited heavily, the Council trying to put pressure on the company that was keeping Humanity's emerging economy afloat. Other companies had received the same abrupt and unwelcome attention.

Some of the governments on Earth had been bribed and affected by the new foreign powers, and would see some political movement. Which lead him to his current meeting. He was going to meet with the Naval Committee to ask for a nonhuman pass to the Prothean Archive. That was always a bit expensive. Just arranging a meeting with all of them officially was difficult to get, going through the proper channels.

It was much easier to get the more important and willing members together for a nice dinner. So that was how Dierdre Scott, Donovan Hock, Toshiro Toyoda, and Gustav Chekorivic sat at a table together with Jack Harper. Dierdre was simple to bring in, as this would be fine for publicity on her end. Donovan was somewhat of a peacenik, wanting a greadual standing down of certain forces and an escalation of the local forces not directly controlled by the Alliance. He was most certainly corrupt at some level, but as to why or who was paying him Jack didn't know. South Africa, where he hailed from, was not very forthcoming with information about him. He was a lot like the corrupt dictators that usually came out of the African states. They all deleted their past so deep behind misinformation that it became impossible to find where the truth began.

Jack didn't know even in his memories. Donovan was older than him by a longshot, and had survived the genocide committed against the white population. How that was accomplished was still unknown. Toshiro Toyoda was part of the manufacturing giant Toyota, which had jumped to space travel faster than the other car companies. Their vehicles were dependable, and could be found in every colony in Alliance space. Japan and its components in Asia, as they had expanded following the 2020's, contributed heavily to the Alliance electronics sector.

Toyoda was a large contributor and the man appointed by their government to watch over where their most advanced gear was distributed. He was also a bigoted bastard, and saw Humanity as the top of the food chain. He also saw how to get there, and his products reflected that. Gustav was from the Eastern European Federation. He was part Ukrainian and part Russian, hated by most people and tolerated by his government. But he was also a warmonger, and no one was able to stay in political positions like them. He was absolutely corrupt. But more importantly he was the chair of the committee. Gustav could veto anything that Jack put forward unless he was appeased.

Donovan he had promised to allow on a tour of some of the more secretive parts of Cerberus, namely the biotic research lab. He was expressing an unhealthy interest in it. But if that was the price of getting biotic training from some of the best Asari he could get, so be it. Toyoda wanted Jack to buy out one of the businesses that was competing against Toyota directly for alloy production. Of course, they weren't selling, so Jack would need to do some sort of corporate move to take them down. That would be months of work. Even weakening them would be enough. But the Taiwan-based company was one of the more independent corporations that operated within China and its territories. The Reds didn't have as much influence on Taiwan. So removing that company would only strengthen the Reds. Or at least give the more corrupt and destructive forces more reason to grow.

Fulfilling Toyoda's demands would be difficult. Each choice had its consequences. Gustav though, that took the cake. He wanted something that Jack could actually give, but did not want to. Gustav wanted to be a major shareholder in Markov Heavy Industries. It was a private company, so the shares were not being actively sold. Which meant that he wanted Jack's personal shares in the company. Those had been hard to come by in the first place, and Gustav wanted them as a favor to maintain his acceptance of the nonhuman access. So, that lead him to this dinner party. All of the people here knew what the score was.

So, Jack invited Hannah. He hadn't seen her in years. But Dierdre would most certainly keep her hands to herself if he invited another female companion along. They had a business relationship that was well cultivated. Ever since his twin girls had been born, their more personal relationship had been strained. Not as though Jack was refusing her advances, but he got busier. Arranging to sneak her up to Tartarus Station was exponentially more difficult than sneaking her into one of his penthouses. So he had gone after the more accessible and younger crowd of prospective agents and workers in Tartarus and Polaris.

The lunch was as one would expect. None of them mentioned any of the topics that were dangerous. Strangely enough, most of their conversation revolved around the rising corruption rate in the nations of Greece, Germany, and Turkey. This was a problem for much of the Alliance, as Turkey was one of the electronic production giants. Greece had always been poor, ever since the waterlanes of trade were mostly abandoned. Once petroleum had fallen from the top fuel source, Greek shipping companies had dried up. Now they were little better than the third world countries that depended on tourism to maintain themselves.

Germany, though. That country had been a serious power in terms of economic investing power. The German economic superpower had become weaker in the growing shadow of Asia, but had made a comeback by investing heavily into the Alliance war machine. BMW was now the main producer of the fighters the Alliance fielded. As such, Germany was targeted by Asari investors. The Volus had gone after Turkey, as they always needed better electronics. Buying out the human companies seemed like a fine idea.

There was no law that said that you couldn't sell to an alien. With the Alliance being inducted as an Associate race soon, the investors and capitalists from both the Volus and the Asari were hunting for easy pickings. With the credit being stronger than the Alliance standard currency, they could buy out companies for less than what they would be in a few months. The desperate companies would sell quickly, and without any of the legal protections that the Alliance would gain from a treaty, the companies that sold out early would be under the complete control of the outside races.

Their workers couldn't unionize or work outside of the rules established by the ownership. As the Council had no control present yet, these greedy aliens were going to come in and just steal everything they could for the lower prices. Especially technology. Thankfully, Sirta and Markov were safe. He had adequately provided for their costs of preparing for the larger galactic market. Henry hadn't seen a penny come back yet, and reminded him incessantly about it.

But medigel was going to hit the galactic market in four months. After that, Humanity was assured its place. With a fleet that could challenge the Batarian menace, and an economy whose core was protected from wrongful alien investments, they would have a much better chance. The last time that Humanity had emerged into the galactic community, Sirta had nearly gone out of business just getting more infrastructure. Only later did they realize that much of their problems were caused by some STG wetwork teams that had found the company breaking Council policy. Sirta had used illegal policies that the Alliance was trying to avoid getting into when creating medigel in the first place. Test subjects had originally been provided by the government. Thankfully this time Jack had a seat on their board and directed them to use penal colonies. Much more secure and the Alliance could just use those on death row for the testing. Nothing was more glorious than using someone whose life was already forfeit to save the lives of millions of others.

Among the members of the Naval Committee, the threat of aliens was real. Donovan may have been the most peaceful one of them, but even he agreed that something needed to be done about the threat. That was when Jack came to a solid conclusion.

"Gustav," He asked, getting the larger man's attention. "How many of your retired navy men are causing trouble in your country?"

"I would say no more than a thousand. Outside the penal camps, we have a few hundred in rehabilitation. Perhaps more that we aren't aware of." He gave him a loose look. "Why?"

"During the late 1600's, the French did not enjoy the foreign market being so heavily controlled by the Portuguese and British. Their answer was a group of Corsairs, loyal to their country as loosely aligned citizens, but armed with some of the best ships and weapons they could afford. Consider them an ancient group of terrorists that were allowed to engage in piracy by their government. If, and I don't mean that we should allow this to leave closed doors, we enact the same strategy for our borders. The Batarians have never been too threatened by their own piracy. Our youth as a race allows us certain leeway."

"So you think we should create a group of Corsairs for our own use?"

"I think it's a fine idea." Toyoda mentioned. "We can sell the oldest frigates and cruisers in the fleet, without having to create trouble increasing our numbers as a whole. We can make profit for the Alliance directly, while allowing private citizens the right to protect their homes."

Hock wasn't pleased at all with this. "This is not going to encourage anyone to be peaceful with the Batarians. They are trading partners that offer a substantial opportunity for investment."

"The Reds seem to profit from it. But they are paying in flesh and blood rather than credits." Dierdre remarked. "I wouldn't mind if human trafficking stayed in our systems. But even if we arm the basic citizen who wants to help, we can always deny their existence."

"So, perhaps a better question is who we will send to staff those ships." Jack remarked. "Deniable assets. Able to go into the Terminus systems and hit the Batarian slaving worlds and trade lanes. Perhaps they might enjoy a bit of their own medicine." Pirate raids had already been reported in some of their less protected systems.

Gustav grinned. "I have plenty of extremely combative and poorly rehabilitated soldiers. Combine that with whatever the Reds buy, and these Corsairs will be able to take as many as there are ships to fit them."

"Assuming the Navy allows this, which they won't, who can implement this?"

"Gustav has immunity as his country no longer considers his actions crimes. Dierdre, you would be too close to the weapons market for them to be comfortable with you doing this. Toyoda can't afford to get his hands dirty, and I am already knuckles deep in Cerberus. Hock and you both own nothing in the weapons and ship market. As you both aren't connected, you would be the perfect people to work this. There would be no connection as long as the people we sent are properly vetted. So, either you or Hock should handle this."

Hock looked very displeased. Gustav more so. If he had to keep his hands out of the military, then he would have to pick something he wanted other than a piece of Markov Heavy Industries. Hock would never agree to this. Even though at some point in the future he might fall prey to corruption more deeply, and hire his own mercenary army, right now he was a sitting Senator. Anything Jack wanted to investigate about him was going to have to wait until he got voted out. There was no question that Hock was working behind the scenes. Everyone was while the government and economy went through this shift.

"I am not going to involve myself in this." Hock said, making his displeasure at the idea known.

"We can always simply delegate this." Gustav noted.

Jack saw an opening and took it. "But it has to start here, otherwise it won't have any sort of legitimacy. You happen to be the more liberal members of the committee, and from you this has to start. You have the political power to authenticate the sales of the old frigates. You also have the power to legalize piracy in the Terminus systems, as the Batarians have. Of course, that wouldn't be the kind of thing that Donovan Hock would recommend, with his history of peace and compromise. Gustav, you have a history of trying to stir up trouble at home and abroad. Lastly, it was your vote that decided the launch and completion of the _Everest_ just in time for the Turians to be forced to retreat."

"Perhaps, we can appear to sell the ships. Calm down our Turian allies," He said that word the same way someone talks about an annoying neighbor. "and give ourselves some breathing room. If the Reds buy them, who cares. Our own ships can have the clearance to shoot any of these resold ships if they appear to be practicing piracy in our sectors of space."

"There is another option for the old ships, as well." Dierdre noted. Jack kept his grin to himself. Gustav would have to be careful in how he phrased things from now on. "We could sell our frigates to a few other groups that would strengthen local resistance to the Batarians."

Hock scoffed. "Allow precious Alliance hardware to be used by Terminus scum? Preposterous."

"The Turians sell all of their older ships at Omega." Gustav sneered. "I don't see why we can't do the same. So long as we hold some back for our privateers."

"I meant that we should sell to groups like the Quarians." Dierdre said. "They have a need for ships, and arming them means that they will be an even bigger threat to the Batarians. As they are out in the Terminus systems mostly, this only benefits us."

Curious. Jack hadn't considered that before. "Why would we want them invited to interfere with our precarious economy?" Toshiro said. "They do not trade in credits, but in trade contracts and materials. Worse, they trade as a singular entity."

"Much like guilds of our near history. Collective bargaining can work in our favor as well." Jack clarified. "But the Quarians have things that other races don't have. Their synthetic technology and specialized weapons against such enemies might be of worth to investigate."

"Or they can provide labor." Dierdre said. "They have some of the best technicians in the galaxy, and ours are behind. I say we hire quarians to upgrade and update our older colonies and some parts of the unfinished Arcturus station. Nothing that breaks security or protocols. Without any ties to any of the other Council races, they don't represent the same level of threat."

"I don't like the idea of aliens working with our technology any more than Toshiro does. But I can see some of the benefit of taking the pressure off of our technicians. Maintenance needs are being forgotten in the wave of construction the Alliance is going through currently. If we hire Quarians we can take a temporary labor rise to keep the pressure off. Not to mention perhaps earning some of their trust."

"You just want their weapons technology, Harper." Hock said. "The rest of us have more altruistic concerns."

"Either way. Corsairs or strengthening the Quarians and other mercenaries, this weakens the Batarians. Acting indirectly is still safe while we are in this probationary state. But Mr. Harper brings up a good point. The Quarians have no borders or colonies for us to fight over, nor do they offer any sort of credits to buy out our companies. A guarantee of temporary labor." Jack replied without any venom. Hock was just defending his position.

"Jack, are you willing to let the fleet shrink? How much of your investments rely on the maintenance that is being redirected?" Dierdre asked, concerned.

It was true that he would be sacrificing the drydocks that had been in the works to repair and maintain the growing fleet if they sold off all of the old frigates. But to be perfectly honest those ships were not worth the material that built them anymore. Losing a few million credits of investment meant that a mobile drydock would be sold off. Perhaps that would be something that the Quarians would buy. But any of the other races would spend more than enough on it to keep it out of the Quarian hands. Jack blamed indoctrination about that. But if he considered the Quarians and their natural skills a threat, he would do his level best to keep them weak and confined too.

"If that means i get biotic teachers that aren't Turian, it might be. Not in terms of profit but in terms of personnel it will be. We have more potential than the Turians do, and they have been fiddling around with this for twelve hundred years. Their Matriarch won't tell me what she wants access to, so we will have to review the logs of what she accesses. If you are willing to take that in trade."

Gustav grunted, not giving him anything to work with. Both of his parent peoples were known for stoicism. They did start the trouble in the 2020's, to be fair to their efforts. Toshiro thanked him for the wine and dining, as his customs required. Hock shook his hand, thanked him, and left. Dierdre gave him a very close hug, whispering some sweet nothing in his ear.

"It should pass. You were right to mention the pity card." She had come up with that to nickname the Quarians in any kind of diplomatic capacity. He found it hilarious. Thought he did not plan on mentioning it in anything official. "Good luck, Jack." she said, leaving.

If he got Benezia inside the Mars Archive, he felt like she would take a look at some uncomfortable things. She was one of the few people in her society that knew about their own Prothean Archive. She had been a priestess of Athame before converting to Siari, possibly in reaction to what she found out in their own archive. His worst fears would be if she noticed what he had done. If she was looking for the Catalyst, then he was going to have to act. Benezia was enough of a firebrand that she might just reveal the existence of the Asari's beacon, though that was highly unlikely. The Asari had not been very disgruntled with the death of their Matriarch in his memories, perhaps due to this knowledge.

Jack took a last look around the room, noticing that their reserved part of the restaurant had none of the telltale signs of cloaking fields. That worried him. He had invited Hannah to this, and he knew that she had received the message. But she wasn't here. He had been hoping that she would be here. He did _miss_ her to a slight degree, but really he wanted her to investigate Hock.


	11. Chapter 11

I still am going to have the poll up for a few more chapters, so please go to my profile and express your opinion as to what background our Hero might have. Also, if you have any other opinions about where this is going, feel free to comment in the review section. I was out of town for most of last week and so I'll be posting this chapter on a Tuesday. It is a day that sees a little bit less traffic on the website, so maybe that might help. Enjoy the read.

Chapter 11

2164, The same day, Upper Hong Kong

Hannah had avoided the message from Jack. As much as she wanted to, she had been on someone's ceiling at the time and needed her hands. That had been five hours ago. She was still on that ceiling, waiting for the opportunity. If her target would just be cordial and give her the opportunity she needed to escape, that would be fine. But the paranoid git never went anywhere without someone watching over this terminal. So it looked like she would have to break cover just to leave. She only had another hour before her cloak would start diminishing. Her batteries needed a good charge and she would love to not be stuck to a ceiling.

No one ever looked up. People never expected trouble from that direction. Apparently that was also true in Upper Hong Kong, which rested on top of the old city. Long driven supports had been placed in the old city, and skyscrapers had been built on top of skyscrapers. Sky bridges and platforms straight out of the movies had been built here. That made it both harder and easier to move around. Security systems and other devices modern and simple had been used for security here. One of the doors in this place still used the old piece of tape method.

Others used heat sensors and other nasty bits of wetware. But she was the best at this for a reason. Today she had to cover for someone less skilled than her, who had screwed up and died on their mission. His medical data from his autopsy was on this console, and wasn't networked to anything else. What she wanted to do was just log in and take the information. With guards posted on the console all the time, she had to go to a backup plan.

Her boots were built to absorb the noise of her landing. More importantly, the stealthsuit she wore kept her cloak from being disrupted. The field wavered when she hit the ground, but stayed together. Her batteries were running low, and it would take most of what she had left to make it to the nearest safe house. So, she took her time. She was right next to the guard, and had to ever so slowly place her hand on the console. The cloaking field almost sparked. But now that she was there, the field contained itself.

Once she was in contact with the computer, she could slide in the small disc drive she had with her. She wasn't much of a programmer, but she had been assured that this would introduce a virus onto the computer that would remove all of the information and extract the relevant data they needed. She didn't plan on the console beeping loudly at the intrusion. The guard looked over at the console, surprised.

The knife she had gotten back at Shanxi was too much of a signature blade to use. It was some sort of Batarian knife, as far as she was able to find out. The five layered blades were all connected to a small piston for the main blade, acting like an old fashioned switch blade once the tip had gone through. It was just a switch blade that had five serrated edges that extended three inches and could apparently go through an inch of bone. The only races that had that thick of bone structures were Krogan. So she had somehow acquired an illegal knife even for their culture, meant for someone to go hand to hand with a Krogan. She had only met one, and that had been reason enough to avoid going hand to hand with them.

Their species were bred for warfare. Redundant nervous systems, resistant to most forms of poison and radiation, regenerative abilities. The list carried on, but still, watching one bench press a Light Assault Vehicle had been impressive. So, with that in mind, she brought out her regular knife. It had been a style in use since the late 20th century, The guard was leaning over the console when the blade entered his chin. It was the only angle available to her, and he dropped quickly once the blade reached his brain.

Once he did, she checked his wrist. He hadn't triggered an alarm on the Omni-tool. But there was a life sensor application going in the bottom right corner of the screen. With him bleeding out, the program was lighting up. She didn't have an answer for that one. Killing the Omni-tool signal would only make things more suspicious. She noticed the darkening of the console as the virus finished its work, the data having been collected. She pulled out the OSD from the console, finding that it was feeling hotter than normal.

She leaned over, looking at the back of the console. She could see a line of some sort of liquid agent contained along the back of the console. It was connected to some sort of wiring that lead to the ports on the back of the console. It was also blinking…

"Sh-"

She started running. Bomb squads could deal with that. Plus, once that went off, there was no hiding her presence. Since that was a foregone conclusion, she activated her Omni-tool. A pre-typed message went out.

_The latest Transformers was just as lame as the last one. _

That was a signal that her cover was blown. Plus, millions of messages that were tearing into the latest in the long line of movies that had been reimaged in 2130, one more wouldn't be noticed. But that was being sent to her backup. That was a nice feeling, to know that you weren't alone in your mission.

She activated her cloaking field again. She just ran right through the next room, heedless of the noise. Speed was more important, at this point. Alarms were already going off in the distance, from the dead guard. Before she made it to the security doors, they slammed shut. She slid to a stop, taking cover in one of the wall booths. This was a gambling den, and some of the clientele looked rather displeased by the alarms. Their bodyguards and the guards of the house were scoping each other out. Her mission wasn't to kill anyone, but she was allowed to if there were no other options.

Right now there were civilians in the room along with the people who would readily kill her. She wasn't wearing the high class clothes that she normally would if she were normally trying to infiltrate high security targets like this one. Damn Jack, but he had really made a very efficient stealthsuit. She refused to call it a catsuit. He would, though. Some men among the intelligence group had gotten to calling it that. The other Infiltrators had been issued the same thing, and so far the public and Reds were only aware of female infiltrators. Almost all of the Infiltrators were women. Higher pain tolerance, smaller bone structure, generally can fit in smaller spaces and usually had smaller and more dextrous fingers.

But the public also knew that it was possible for men to become Infiltrators. The process was much safer now, after Sirta Foundation had invented the medi-gel that had been saving lives lately. A few men and women had died or been crippled by the process. Others were crippled in the research for the other groups of special operations agents created at Cerberus. Jack's foundation had done a lot of good work, for which she would thank the man. Indirectly, of course. No need to feed his ego.

Thanks to that gigantic ego, two other classes had been created amongst the armed forces of Humanity. Soldiers, gene modded brutes that were exactly as suggested, were the new face of Special Forces squads. Faster reflexes, stronger muscles, some modifications to their bone structure, and the heaviest armor and weapons that could be carried. The last modified class had just left the Cerberus think tank, and she had been given discretion to use use the active one for this mission.

When the door opened, it was to the sound of gunfire. Security guards were retreating into the room, and some sort of glowing object chased them in. The small pistols they unloaded on it hit some sort of kinetic barrier. At the center of the glowing ball seemed to be a drone, a small floating version. Except that instead of the normal camera mounting, this drone had a Havoc shotgun inside. It was steaming, having already killed a couple of men.

She knew that a drone like this was deployable for only short amounts of time. Once the security team was distracted by the drone, she ran through the door. A couple of interior explosions reminded her of the console, and she hoped that didn't just get the attention of people in other buildings. Unlikely, but that meant that local air support would be coming soon.

In the hallway, there was a small man standing in the midst of five dead guards. He was on one knee, and had a large rifle. It barked, taking off the head of another guard that had tried to come the opposite direction down the corridor. She moved behind him, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Recall the drone! Let's go!"

He nodded. The drone deactivated its attack protocols, and flew back to his hand. They backed up one of the walls, where a hole had been blown through it. The man with the drone reached down and placed a motion sensor bomb underneath one of the tipped over plants. It would go off on anyone following them out to the outside of the building. After that, he made for the hole. His movements were jerky, his implants and mods not completely comfortable yet. She knew that kind of feeling. Phantom pains and scrunches of nerves that didn't know what the hell you just did to your body.

Outside of the hole, he grabbed onto some sort of hook. A large harness was set up there. It had a large jet pack located on it. Wings had folded on it and were nearly eight feet out on either side when fully deployed. Other races had Engineers of their own, but Humanity needed something a bit more effective. The Turians had a group of soldiers that were armed and trained for space combat, the Armiger Legion. They were equipped with suits meant for controlled bursts of motion. Jack had investigated that and created flight harnesses for Engineers and special forces, and had incorporated the jets onto the Engineer's suits. This, combined with strength mods, drones, and hacking ability created a soldier that could fulfill specialized functions anywhere.

Sergeant Wyatt was the first of these Engineers. Capable and trained for zero gravity combat, he clipped her magnetic hard points to the inside of his harness. Once he was certain that she was attached, he jumped. This is where she decided she would omit her screaming from the mission report. The magnetic harness nearly undid itself when it went through some sort of barrier system. Hong Kong maintained kinetic barriers for many of its different buildings, fearing shots would be fired at them. More likely it was to dissuade from shots being fired by rogue ships. The Alliance might be within those definitions.

"Wyatt! You said I was secure!" Thankfully she could be shrill over the earpiece she wore. He had a helmet to protect him from the wind.

"Didn't think about the barrier, Sir!"

"Anything else we should be worried about?"

"You rated for more than normal G forces?" One of the largest gene mods that had been invented for these Engineers was a mod to protect the body against gravity forces. Asking that to an Infiltrator, her, of all people, was an insult.

"No!"

"Ok. I won't test the afterburner system. But hold on to your harness." Wyatt was going down in her books of people who should be shot. Right after he got them out of this mess. He decided that the best way to do that was to dive into the lower city. When he took the harness on a nose dive, she passed out. Only later did she realize that the bastard had taken her to more than four negative G's.

So, a few hours later she was finally on her way with the OSD. Sergeant Wyatt received an official reprimand for risking her life more than necessary, and for using a method of escape that pointed at the Alliance. Things were already under stress with the Reds and their parent countries, as the racial breakdown in the newest colonies was heavily Latin American and Asian. European races had the fewest, except for the Russians. Their country had encountered a massive population rise as they rushed to fill the void. They were the country with the most fuel rights in the Alliance, as they had the most before they left the Sol system. Their largest rivals in that were the Chinese. Though India had made a small comeback with their claims of supplying Arcturus Station, leading to a partial monopoly there.

So the Alliance Parliament was reluctant to pass any laws restricting colonization rates for travelers. Part of the basic Alliance charter was that race and economic power would cease to be factors in citizenship. China abused it, while the other member nations avoided mentioning it. So as a result, most colonies were mixed descent of Asians and Latinos. Caucasians were rare, and as a result, so was the freak gene that was red hair. Anytime she came into a room, her hair got attention before the rest of her did. Of course, she could safely say that the rest of her was quite nice to see, but to be fair she would always be considered an exotic taste.

Her direct supervisor was now some pencil pusher that was too old for active duty but had too many contacts to retire so soon. Crotchety, by the book, and not entirely trusting of the new class structure in the corps. Smythe was a British officer that had been with their services from before the formation of the Alliance. Apparently his parents had been, and their parents before him. So the man was a career intelligence officer, and didn't care about results so much as personnel. When every member of the Infiltrators was important, he was the man to keep it all together. What made things worse was that the man was a general physician, trained with "Sports Medicine" as his focus.

So he controlled your medical and physical status to be able to go out on missions. Standing in front of him, she was actually a little afraid. That last mission had been bad, and she had been compromised. The Reds were getting much better at discovering their agents, but that would be natural for them to adapt to changing conditions.

"Agent Shepard. Glad to see that you didn't die from Wyatt's driving. But this brought something to my attention."

"Sir?" Smythe was looking stoic, as usual. Reading any kind of body language from him was impossible.

"You haven't taken any time off for healing those wounds you received on Terra Nova. Or for the time on Elysium two years back. Most importantly, you haven't taken any time off going all the way back to Shanxi, during the First Contact War. I understand that there was a need, but right now we have a surplus of agents who are capable of going places. As such, until you have been declared healthy you are on administrative leave. Report to Tartarus Station for medical examination and evaluation. Until they pass you, don't show back up here."  
"Sir, respectfully, I am feeling fine."

"Respectfully, I must disagree. Wyatt was within reasonable negative G's for your body to stand. He was not out of place and I have redacted my reprimand. Upon further investigation we discovered that your existing injuries might be reducing your combat capability." His accent was thicker than others. "As such, report to Tartarus. Get some sleep, take some time off. You've got more money in your account than the rest of us combined. Go spend it." With that, he gave her a look of distaste. "Dismissed."

Well, maybe that strained back thing wasn't completely fine after all. Or perhaps that ankle injury she had to treat with medigel after digging that piece of shrapnel out. Well, after all the visits she had with Henry, she was ruined for Doctors forever. The other Doctors at Tartarus Station apparently had just as bad bedside manner. Or a lack of one at all.

The shuttle from the Intelligence Offices to Tartarus was not long, as the Station was only a few kilometers downspin on Luna. She just had her duffel bag and her stealthsuit. Over that was a long coat to discourage viewers. The Intelligence Office had plenty of their jackets around. So when she finally touched down in the dock for Tartarus Station, and had to go through the customary scans and detection protocols. It felt like she was singled out every time just because she could cloak. Though to be fair she was one of the few people rated to be able to break into someplace like Tartarus.

The snort that came in response to that thought made the guard scanning her bag check it over a second time, more closely. Oh well, she was technically on vacation. She had the time for a few extra scans. When they finally released her through the security stations and into Tartarus Station proper, she saw that the place had changed a lot since she had last been here. The operating theatre was gone, replaced by some sort of lab structure. It had two layers of airlocks. It also had guards actively defending it. She didn't go anywhere near it. Everyone here was doing something important. Making them feel paranoid or suspicious would only make them more inefficient.

So, she walked along in a direct route, ignoring the people around her. That way no one would question where she was going or submit her to further security checks. As she was walking along, she saw the most curious sight, mostly due to other people blatantly staring. Further down the corridor, there were three Asari in a debate with one of the senior technicians in Cerberus.

"Your subdermal implants need to be completely redesigned, if you think they are going to be compatible with your biotic program. If you keep them plugged into those same nerves, the act of creating a mass effect field might be the same as activating their Omni-tool."

"We aren't redesigning our entire line of implants just because a tiny percentage of the population can't use them effectively."

"I expected full compliance with our needs."

"We are already developing some of the most advanced implants that we can, we cannot change all of our products just because less than one percent of the population would have it interfere with another biological function." The technician replied. "My company will not support the biotic program."

"They will need those implants if you want their bodies able to handle the gravitic forces biotics submit themselves to!" The Asari looked almost exactly like a human. Their hips were thin, their waists were thin, and they seemed to have pigmented skin. Turians and Salarians had scales of some sort, on top of an epidermal layer that kept them warm. That layer was especially weak to cold and freezing temperatures. With the Asari, they might be more suited to human limitations. But their shoulders were not quite the same, as if their arms were longer.

"Convince my company board members, not me, and you might get your chance, Miss." The technician said, stepping away from the growing crowd of people. Once he pushed through, the crowd started moving off, the alien an unwelcome presence among them. Hannah didn't want to be noticed, and scattered with the group. She was intrigued at the presence of an Asari inside of the Cerberus Foundation, as it was dedicated to the survival of the human race.

She gave the rest of them walking away a glare, and then the alien walked back inside the lab she and the technician had emerged from. She had to blink at that. Hannah hadn't been tasked to go after any targets other than human and Turian ones. Asari she had only seen in vids, though she had seen a few dead Salarians.

She ignored the alien for now. Getting close was liable to get her killed, anyways. That was what her previous experience had taught her. Walking past her, Hannah stepped up the main stairway leading to the upper offices. This area hadn't changed, a couple of guards and a secretary in front of the main offices. The secretary was not the same one she remembered, this one being a man of African descent. He saw her, and didn't betray any emotion.

"Agent Shepard. We have received notification that you have been placed on administrative leave. As such, what we can do for you is limited. How can I assist you?" He said, being cordial while being somewhat brunt with her.

"Just trying to talk to Jack. Nothing else or untoward." She said. "Is he free?"

The man did look down at his console. "He is currently out of the office, at the first of the biotic classes in the Solaris Branch of the base. You do not currently have the clearance to be there. With that in mind, er, wait," His console lit up with some sort of message. "Ah, it appears your security grade has risen. Strange that it happened, it was approved by," He hummed aloud about whoever it was approved by, but she already knew it was Jack. He knew about everything that happened around him.

"How to do I get to the Solaris Branch, then? Jack seems to be glad to hear that I am inside the base." The secretary seemed to be very suspicious, so she decided to just download a public copy of the base map. From her Omni-tool, she was directed to one of the lifts at the near side of the base. It appeared that the lift took off towards another dome, but at a downwards angle. So further inside the moon was this Solaris Branch.

When she got to the lift, there was only one other woman inside of it, who was wearing some sort of hooded cloak. It was cold up on the moon, even with the station being warmer than most. Still, she took the front area of the lift so that the other person would not feel so crowded. These were only meant for four to five people anyways. The freight elevators could take up to fifty, and they were from the dock to the main section of the base.

When Hannah had stepped inside the lift, it activated.

"Finally. Your blasted technology still won't recognize that I am actually on these things." The person said, a strange lilting tone in her voice. When the woman turned around, Hannah saw the face of the same Asari that had been arguing with the technician earlier.

"Sorry." Hannah offered, not really apologizing for anything she had done. There were plenty of xenophobic people in the security booths of the station, and they might have just set up her security permissions like that. "Not many people are used to the idea of associating with aliens yet. You might have a better reception here, than someplace on earth."

"Well, than your race is more welcoming than most. Turians just want to see us dance, or want us to just sit back and be civilians about everything. Elcor culture and entertainment industry has echoed and reflected our own, just twenty times more slowly. The Krogan and Batarians have a very low view, so the fact that you treat us like a real threat is always a good sign."

"Well, consider us a bit more artistic and creative Turians. We share the most tendencies with them, with a bit more of a stubborn streak." Hannah said. She had come to that conclusion after all of the time she had spent studying them. They had a lot more of an singular focus in their culture. It was a bit of a weakness, actually. You could break down their culture if that single focus can be broken up, leading to a loss of morale across the entire spectrum.

"A fair assessment. Though you Humans have a much more creative culture. I am especially interested in your plays and theatres." She paused, considering something. It was hard to tell when the alien didn't have any eyebrows to follow. "My name is Nyra Sabuora. It's a pleasure to meet a human that actually listens."

"Hannah Shepard. I haven't had the pleasure of talking to any Asari before."

"You can expect a few more Asari to be visiting Earth before too long. Your arts and jewelry may attract some, while your food may attract others. I prefer your desserts myself."

"We already had some sort of Elcor delegation visit England. They had the only libraries built strong enough to support their weight." Big lumbering creatures. The vids she had seen of them made her think of some sort of elephant.

"They love any sort of entertainment that they can copy or learn from. Expect some really long winded ripoffs of your best classics within the decade. It happened back when I was a Maiden, when the Elcor joined the Citadel. Their race normally communicates through pheromones that are dumped into the air, but when they communicate to other races it comes out in a monotone. Apparently thats how they interpret what we say."

"I had to learn Turian at one point." Hannah mentioned. "My voice was croaky for a month afterwards."

That made the Asari laugh. "If you learned Turian, Asari should be easy. No snarling and undertone to replicate. Just lacking most of these consonants your language uses."

The lift made a loud beep as it arrived at the Solaris Branch. Inside was a large area dedicated to lab work, research labs appearing off to the left side. On the right was a long hallway with wide windows, and smaller human figures behind them. Hannah did notice that these windows were weapons grade plexiglass, meant to stop bomb-shattering force. Many of the people working here didn't have the uniforms or technician's outfits that were normally part of Tartarus Station.

"Do you have any idea where to go in here?" Hannah asked Nyra. "I have only been in the other part of the complex."

"I can't really lead you around. I'm supposed to be teaching some beginner biotics class." Nyra said, looking at least partially apologetic.

"Wait! That's where I am supposed to go." Hannah supplied, trying not to somehow offend the alien's cultural expectations. All of the Intelligence reports showed that the Asari had some sort of deep cultural focus on peaceful resolution.

"Wonderful." Nyra said. "I'll have at least one friendly face when I tell all of these kids that they need to try to harness gravity through their nervous system."

The two women of different races walked to the far end of the hallway where an auditorium had been setup. A slight depression in the metal of the area had created a semicircle of seating, and most of that was packed full of children and parents. Family resemblance was present everywhere. What made her blink was the presence of Jack in his signature Italian suit, next to two young girls. One had hair that was as black as his own, and the other had hair that was an auburn shade. It was _red._ Her mind immediately assumed that he had went and knocked up some other redhead. But to knock up some other redhead with exposure to Element Zero, that was another thing entirely.

He saw her come in, and waved her towards one of the benches for seating near him. She obliged, walking past rows of worried parents and hyperactive children to sit next to some Indian couple with a daughter, one row behind Jack. Nyra walked around to the other side, heading for the front of this entire area.

"Jack, I didn't know you went and adopted some children." She started out with, knowing that the usual meet and greet was lost on the man. He invited her to be here, for some reason. He would have a few ulterior motives. She did miss that message from him a few hours ago, as well as any kind of event he had thought about inviting her to over the last eight years. It wasn't her fault. She was busy, and certain people needed to be watched or even killed. It wasn't like she was doing something frivolous.

"I never adopted. Their mother passed away in childbirth, and I was notified of my parentage after the fact. I've done my best to raise them ever since." He told her, and she could see the two children turn and glare at her. Their eyes were the same piercing blue as their father, at least proving to be his parentage.

"Dad, is this one of those women?" The word _women_ was said as if addressing an awkward problem. But the raven haired young girl who asked the question seemed unafraid of offending anyone.

"No, Miranda, this is not one of my mistresses." Only Jack could get away with explaining away a mistress in an auditorium full of parents. "This is actually more of a family relation than anything else. You can address her as Aunt Hannah."

"But Uncle James said that we don't have any Aunts." The redhead said.

"You do now. Your Aunt Hannah is the very first Cerberus trained agent. We have known each other for the last decade at least." He pointed to the stage. "Now pay attention. Your teacher is speaking."

Nyra had come up to the podium, and had uplinked her Omni-tool to the auditorium's speaker systems. Since it would be translating her flutey-sounding language anyways, it was easy to just link the systems into her translation tool. "Hello and greetings. My name is Nyra Sabuora. I am an Asari, a native of the planet Thessia. I am here to teach all of you how to use your newfound abilities with biotics. For most new races learning how to use these abilities, many of you will find it hard and unnatural."

She started glowing, very clearly putting out some sort of field. Parents and children alike leaned forward, eager to see more. Jack even loosened his shoulders to lean forward. The glow extended from her and into the podium, which promptly lifted off of the floor and into the air roughly six feet or so. From there, it slowly rotated so that the top was tilted towards the bottom, the box of tissues dumping onto the ground.

"This is only the basics of what you will be able to do, as this is only changing the force that is being exerted by gravity upon this object. By controlling how much this is being effected by gravity," As she said this, she made the podium start floating towards the ceiling. A lot of children were giggling or in awe at the sight of gravity being blatantly ignored. This all changed to yelps of surprise as the podium collapsed in onto itself, as all of the sides and top of it all were forced inward by some sort of force. "With that control you can also destroy the object." She let the podium fall to the ground, its many pieces scattering all over the floor. Many of the parents were a bit scared.

Jack was just interested. He gave her a glance as the demonstration ended, a large smirk on his face. "The Senate said we should hire a Turian. I like this better."

She looked again at the Asari, justifying her to be at least as large a threat as a Turian. But Jack had something to do with this Asari being here. "Nyra is a nice person. Or at least someone who can respect frankness."

"Don't get too close, Hannah. Asari reproduce through physical contact." He joked. His kids didn't get it, but she didn't humor him either.

"No thank you, Jack. To your next offer, of course." She told him, knowing him well enough to expect the offer to join him in his bed. "But I am interested in how you got these little girls."

"That would be easy enough to remember. During your sojourn as my secretary, we both attended the congratulatory dinner for Senator Dierdre Scott. I met up with a previous partner in the bathroom there, and due to your overbearing presence we were not able to properly plan for children. So, nine months later I received a notification that I was the father of two girls, fraternal twins. Their mother died due to complications with Element Zero, and I had to rapidly adapt my lifestyle around them." He did seem comfortable with children. Who knew that such a bastard would be a decent father. Though the lack of a mother figure was clear.

"Don't try to pin the blame on me for trying to keep track of you. The fact that you even got out from under my thumb for long enough to do that much makes me worry about what else you may have done." She made the point. It was her job at the time.

"Oh, I don't blame you. I don't think I would have fathered any children if I went through my usual livelihood. If anything, I can actually hold you responsible." He gave her a small grin. "Not in any parental way, but I can safely label you an Aunt."

"What about their mother's family?"

"Shanxi and a very distant relative on earth she hadn't made contact with even with how things had gone. That and I was not about to let something I had obviously helped create disappear."

"You wouldn't. The chance that someone else would control something of yours bothers you more than anything else about this." She said, knowing him well enough. Even after eight years, his ego hadn't changed a bit. After 2 children and creating the Cerberus Foundation, he still had an ego to rival the highest of politicians.

"Daddy, are you coming to our first class?" Both of them looked down at the redheaded girl, who was trying to get their attention. The children and parents were all filing into different classrooms off to the sides. They must have been distracted from any announcements by Nyra about classes.

"Your Aunt and I will certainly be there. They did have you being taught by one of the Asari, yes?" Jack looked at both of his daughters, who nodded. "Good. You are both going to be in the advanced classes, so try to pay attention." He knelt down and got on their level, something she remembered her mother doing to her when she was worried. "After this I'll take you both any restaurant that you want to go into." That got smiles from both of the girls, who quickly ran into the classroom. "Let's go see some history being made. The first human Biotics are about to figure things out."

Hannah shrugged. Biotics were not something she was used to seeing. Batarian ones were hinted about, and Turian ones hadn't been deployed at Shanxi. Only one biotic had been killed during the war, killed by hers truly. He was some sort of super soldier of theirs, a candidate for the Spectre Program. Alliance Intelligence had so far only seen one of them, and could confirm less than two hundred working for the Council. All that they had heard about them made them a very threatening group. They had no limits on their actions or choices. There was a constant worry after finding out about these Spectres that they would have a Turian one come in and kill a number of Humans.

Thankfully that didn't happen. Jack lead her off to a side room, where a pane of one-way glass sat in between them and the room full of students. Some parents were also in the room, the more clingy and overly supportive types being in front. Jack seemed to be the type to let his children be independent. But he also was paranoid, and kept a viewing room off to the side reserved for his own uses.

He clicked a button on the console located in the room, which turned on the sensors for the room. Audio and thermal detection systems came online easily. With her gene mods, her eyes could focus in a little better in the light or the dark, and she could see that the console was also tracking medical scans of many of the children. That was rather odd.

"Is this going to be dangerous?" she asked.

"Human exposure to Element Zero has only caused tumors and abnormal growths in the past. From what we have learned with the Turians and Batarians, the first generation of those exposed would be mostly dead or dying. It was the generation that would be coming from those who survived that would have the naturally occurring Element Zero forming along their nervous systems. From that they gain the ability to manipulate gravity and mass. The strength and range of those abilities is dependent upon how much of the nervous system is compromised by Element Zero. The more the extent, the higher the risk of health problems. So with these children we need medical technicians on hand."

"Are you risking their lives?" She asked carefully.

"No. The original plan for all of these kids included separating them from their parents, sending them to a space station that they could be isolated on, and using them as an experiment. Effectively turning the second generation of Element Zero infected humans to be wasted. Worse, they wanted it jointly run with some Turians, to cool them off after the war. I offered a different idea, one that only cost a secure pass for one Asari Matriarch to access the Prothean Archive."

"You arranged for the Asari? Was that just business or did you just do this for your kids?"

He just raised an eyebrow. "Of course I did it for my girls. I've become rather attached to them, and the idea of losing them to some underfunded and poorly run Alliance program just didn't sit well. So I decided to expand Tartarus a bit, make room for the Solaris Program. As many parents as I could get jobs for up here have been provided for."

"Feeling more Humanitarian lately?" she joked.

"Of a sort. Benezia, the Asari Matriarch, mentioned that children develop their biotics easier when they have a parent to fall back on. Unfortunately, most of these children have lost their biological mothers for the obvious reasons. A few have stepmothers, but very few will have any form of functioning families. In effect, the perfect recruits for the Cerberus programs. Partly selfish, but more dedicated towards the future. All of the other races have their biotic programs, and ours must be brought up to speed if we are ever going to compete with them."

"The Asari have that covered, I thought. Aren't they supposed to be our allies?"

"Alliance is only one way of keeping us under control. You have been kept away from alien ops since you killed a Spectre candidate of note, but you should have some idea of how much they have tried to infiltrate our networks. You are aware of Sirta Foundation, yes?"

"Isn't that some super-drug company?"

"The Salarians just tried to disenfranchise it. For the second time. It technically breaks Citadel Law, but holds the patents on medigel. It represents the single most powerful Human company in the galactic market. I have kept it safe so far, but the other races still see us as a massive threat. If we allied with the Batarians and the Terminus systems, we could challenge them, given time. They want us somewhere lower in the status quo, just like the Turians wanted to conquer us and use us as a client race, like the Volus."

"So, biotics are necessary to combat Asari?"

"Absolutely." Jack said. "Now, it looks like Nyra is about to get started. I brought some of your favorite whiskey, of course."

It wouldn't be Jack Harper without some sort of luxury somewhere. Even on Shanxi in the internment camp he somehow acquired alcohol. It just was alien to consider Jack Harper to be lacking in it. So, with little reluctance, she took the entire bottle and started pouring.

Julia took a seat right at the front of the class. Miri took the seat next to her, taking a look around. They were some of the youngest here, but Daddy had assured them that everyone was starting out new. None of them had managed to get their biotics to work yet. At least that was what he said. Miri had become all glowy blue once, when she got really mad. Nothing had happened at the time, but it was still scary.

The blue lady with the weird head was in the class with them, taking a seat in the front. Rather than sit at the teacher's desk, she sat down in the depression in the floor in front of the teacher's desk. All of the other teachers liked the desk, though. It was confusing. Miri looked confused, too.

"All of you today are going to use your biotics. I will tutor and show you how to use it. Though since you all haven't tried before, we are going to use a very simple technique. A technique is something that you can use your biotics for." Nyra brought out a small bag that made some of the kids excited. Julia wouldn't deny that she also was excited. Nyra had popcorn. That got all of their attention. Perhaps it was a reward for if they used their biotics.

"This is a bag of popcorn." She said, her voice coming to her ears weird. Her lips were moving differently for every other word except popcorn. Nyra then opened the bag, which was bad. The popcorn only popped if you kept it in the bag and put it in the microwave. Julia stayed quiet, but Miri looked ready to pout. She really liked popcorn. "These small corn pieces need heat and pressure to pop." She said, explaining it. No kids should need to have _popcorn_ explained. It was something that some every kid should know. "What a biotic can do is create enough pressure to make up for the heat."

Nyra then held up a kernel of popcorn. Then she started glowing blue like she did in the other room. She held up the piece of corn, letting it just float in midair. It was also glowing blue, and Julia focused on it. The blue glow got thicker, all of the sudden. Then the kernel popped like a balloon expanding. It was looking exactly like normal popcorn, just glowing blue. Nyra put it down in the middle of the table where everyone could see it.

"Cool!" "I wanna do that!" "Whoa!" The other kids were easily impressed.

"Before you try, you all need to know how to control your own Element Zero in your body. I will show you how it feels, they way that I was taught." She got up and walked over towards Julia. "Who would like to try?"

Julia and Miri threw their hands into the air. Nyra had nearly every kid to choose from. "You, with the red fur." She said. Julia couldn't figure out why her mouth made some noises but she heard others. But she saw Nyra pointing at her.

Standing up, she moved forward. Daddy wasn't here, but she was still going to do her best. She was the best, at everything she tried. She was the fastest runner, and the tallest sister. She was the best student. Biotics would be no different. Nyra started glowing again as Julia approached, but she wasn't going to back away. It was scary. But she was Julia Harper. She was the best.

Nyra's glowing blue hands reached out towards hers. Daddy said she was the best. She had to be an example. She reached out her hands and everything went black.

Jack was in motion before Nyra was launched back into the desks. He recognized what this was. Sometimes among Human biotics, the Element Zero couldn't be directed very effectively. It would get explosive, reacting to outside forces poorly. The Element Zero nodules reacted based upon skin contact, in a rare disorder. He didn't know if this was normal or if it was a one time event. Right behind him, he could hear Hannah moving as well.

He hadn't keyed the button for the medical teams. He already knew what was happening to Julia. She needed to just be away from other biotics and not come in contact with them under any circumstances. It might trigger the event again. He hit the door running, which he was not used to doing in public. Usually he had to maintain a certain composure. Right now, though, his daughter was having a seizure.

The doors opened to the classroom as he ran up to it, but not quite fast enough. His shoulder got jarred from the section of the door he ran into, almost making him fall over. He recovered using the shoulder of one of the fathers in the room, making him give a shout of alarm. It didn't matter.

Julia was on the floor, her body glowing with biotic power and oscillating. She couldn't control it. He slid down the last stair, grabbing Julia and using the momentum to stand back up. He could feel something in his back twinge as he did so, as he hadn't done any heavy workouts in years. Just cardio to keep his shape.

Julia came up in his arms, and he turned around to the door. Hannah was holding it open for him, and had a hand flashing over her Omni-tool. "Move it, Harper!"

Jack started running, and heard footsteps behind him. Miranda was following him. She was a bit short but could run. Not fast enough for how fast they needed to move, but that could be remedied. "Have your aunt carry you!" Miranda nodded. He could appreciate that his girls could function so well without a mother figure. Or at least a permanent one. Different nannies and sitters throughout the years had imparted some feminine wisdom. As Miranda got to the door, she leapt up into Hannah's hands. Hannah seemed to be fine with the weight as they ran towards the doors across the way.

The Hospital facility had its own connections, and was technically in both the Tartarus and Solaris facilities. It was another way of accessing them both, but one that wasn't widely shared. But this part of the hospital was dedicated to Element Zero exposure patients and the newly found biotic generation. They were prepared for moments like these, but their medical teams might be needed elsewhere. Jack couldn't trust them to get to Julia in time. He was already there, and had the experience. Unfortunately he couldn't prove it by opening up a biotic and fitting in Reaper tech anymore, so he had to sit on the sidelines.

Hannah ran ahead of him, in better shape and carrying the lighter Miranda. She triggered the door to the hospital as they ran in, and the motion sensor alerted the front desk of the hospital to the incoming patient. As this hospital was notified of the chance of biotic accidents, they had a gurney prepared for them by the time Jack came through the doors.

Julia was still glowing, and he could feel the weight in his arms changing slightly. Ignoring that, he carefully transferred her to the mobile bed, the doctors carting her away in the gurney. Thankfully it was one of the newest versions they bought from the Salarians. It didn't touch the ground, using Element Zero to keep the patient from feeling any joslting or pain when being moved. Expensive but worth it to him so much more as of right now.

"Julia!" Miranda yelled. When no reply came, she turned to her nexxt source of reliable information. "Daddy, what happened?"

"Julia's biotics went out of control. It happens sometimes. Don't worry about it, she will be alright in a few hours." He lied smoothly, hoping that Julia would actually be alright. Biotics were temperamental. Even with his knowledge that came from his other memories, he knew that this alteration to the human body was dangerous.

On that note, he sent a note to Nyra, telling her that she should continue with her class, even with the interruption. He also notified a doctor here that they needed to do a small exam on Hannah. She was off to the side, letting him have his parental moment.

"Hannah Shepard?" One of the receptionists called. Hannah blinked, looking up from the moment between Jack and his kids, and walked over. Jack observed as she talked with the receptionist, and then gave him a middle finger. He chuckled at that.

"Just rushing along the healing process, Hannah. Let me know when you are done over there." He said. "Afterwards, I would love to get your help with a little project I have. Something for your time off."

Hannah nodded, going off with the doctors. This was one of two places in Alliance space that she could receive medical care, the other being Henry Lawson himself. The man was rather focused on making his gene mods as effective as possible. Obsessive about it, really. But it was better than obsessing about finding perfection in the chaos that was their race. That kind of thing lead to easy Indoctrination.

Which was exactly what he needed Hannah for. With her on vacation, he could use her help for a small project that might save some lives later. While pissing off every single faction in space at the same time, but that was to be expected. So when she finally got out of the doctor's appointment, he was ready for her. No matter what medical condition she was in, she would be able to help him. But he had to change the fate of a few unfortunate souls.

"James, please prepare the Talon for a flight. We are going into Citadel Space." He said over the Omni-tool. Traceable messages were easy to predict. Jack Harper deciding to go into Citadel Space was not unknown. He was going to go under the pretense that he was visiting some of their Asari allies. That was an easily created excuse, when in fact he had somewhere else to be. He had sent Miranda back to class, once he had reassured her that Julia would be alright. When she woke up, he would explain everything. But he was on a timetable, and only had so long before things got interesting. Right now, Hannah was back, and that mattered. With her he could finally move forward on one of his plans.

_Talon is prepped, wine shipment just came in, and maintenance is complete. Though the techs report that some of the wings are going to need new panels soon. This prototype yacht is sort of hard to manage. _James replied. The Talon was getting to be an older craft now. It was starting to bother him when every single military vessel could blow past him. Some civilian craft could do the same now. For a mogul like him, it was expected that he have the best of anything. Perhaps he would sell his ship, but he really would need a new one. Perhaps he might go for an Asari ship this time around. Expensive, gaudy, and an expression of wealth. But that would mean all of those millions of credits going to a non-human entity.

That was unacceptable. He would have to buy from Todd again. Perhaps this time he would just pay him rather than pick up another favor. Walking to the ship, he got a text from the doctor treating Hannah with a diagnosis. Tension i most of her ligaments, broken arm that was never fully reset, and one of her discs looked like it was going to need surgery to fix. Prognosis: she needed six to thirteen weeks to overcome malnutrition, lack of sleep, and a minor surgery for her hyperextended ligament in her left arm. Probably related to the time that Saren had cut up her arm and she had just never treated it. Her stealth technology needed to be updated, as another generation of tech had come out since she was first experimented on.

_Hannah,_

_ Since you are considered a non combatant for the next few weeks, I would like to invite you on a short vacation through Citadel Space. If you are interested, you'll have to move quickly to the docking bay after you are discharged. I am going to be leaving my girls in the care of their nanny, and would like to get out of the base without them catching up. I already have everything you could possibly need onboard outside of a spare catsuit. Those are something you'll have to pay for when the newest version comes out in a few weeks. _

_ Handsome Jack_

After sending the message, he lit up a cigarette in the crowded docking bay, where the smoke alarms were few in number. The only places in base that he could smoke were here and his private elevator. Any of the other smoking facilities were used by the regular workers, and Jack could not ruin his reputation by smoking there. Here, he knew he could get away with at least some puffs. Alcohol could come later, when he was at his ship. The _Talon_ took up space here, and the docking bay was a secure area, so he had to notify James hours in advance when he wanted to leave. It was actually the most notification he was required to give for anything regarding his ship. All of the other ports he wanted to go to he could get away with only an hour or two of notice. Ironic that a place of his own design hindered him so much.

The _Talon_ was in one of the docking slips, and he could see Amandeep on one of the back wings, fixing something. He walked up to the airlock, walking onboard immediately. The butt of his cigarette was dumped into one of his trash cans. Nothing flammable was inside, and they would be dumped into space anyways. So much safer than dumping it in the public trash cans in the dockyards. Who knew what was in those that might be flammable.

He called to the cockpit. "James, wait for Hannah to get on board but don't be afraid to have the engines ready in the next five minutes. She will be joining us for this run."

"What is the purpose of this run, Sir?" James asked. "I might need to start planning a few things. You mentioned the Citadel?"

"I did. It will be our first stop. Though I am curious, James, are you rated for any spacecraft of the mega-hauler class?"

"Currently no, that was a month or two long program that I didn't have enough time off to complete. Though I did get rated for those new ships the Salarians have started selling us." He paused. "Does this mean you own a mega-hauler?"

"Technically not yet, since we haven't stolen it yet."

"Jack Harper, what are you planning on stealing?" Hannah chose that moment to arrive, huffing and out of breath. He had miscalculated how fast she would be able to escape the hospital. Turning around, he acted completely at ease, although her timing was perfect for disruption.

"We are going to steal a mega-hauler, and then steal something very large from the Batarians. Once we have that, then we are going to bring back something back here, hopefully with technology that we can apply to our own ships."

"I am perfectly accepting of ruining the Batarian's day, but why don't you just buy them out on whatever asteroid you plan on stealing?" That reminded him, he should really get rid of that Batarian action in Terra Nova's asteroid belt. Hannah's comment at least meant she was considering helping him.

"They found what appears to be a mostly intact Prothean Dreadnought. I plan on stealing it from them. The technology from that will send them ahead of us by leaps and bounds. They were able to develop space technology from a few crashed prothean ships on one of their moons. We had an entire archive of knowledge, and they had a few broken computers and element zero cores. I don't want them getting their hands on whatever weapons the Protheans mounted on their dreadnoughts."

"How are we supposed to steal an object more than a kilometer in length from the Batarians?" She said, hesitant. "Even for you, this plan seems a bit outrageous."

"Simple. You are going to sabotage it, while they do all the hard work of dragging it to the mass relay. Then we use the mega-hauler that we are going to borrow to take what is rightfully Humanity's."

"Because we are truthfully the only heirs to the Protheans." Hannah mocked him. "Under the new citadel laws we will have to reveal all of our Prothean technology that we have obtained. The Batarians are under the same oaths, so why would you want cause that kind of shitstorm. Do you want to risk our agreements with the Citadel?"

"The Batarians wouldn't share it with the Citadel, as they have never been truly held accountable for their crimes. Their caste system and pride would never let them share what could be their best advantage against their rivals. Considering that we are their chief rivals, that means that we are looking at these weapons pointed right back at us. The STG we have been paying attention to mentioned their find to the other council races, who assume that the Batarians will share this technology. That isn't true in the slightest, as they would rather just let them have it and cool their jets. They have been angry that their colonization rights have been impeded by our very presence."

Hannah hadn't been sent away from Earth for a while. For good reason, as the Turians would love to convict her of war crimes, peace treaty or not. Killing Turians was dirty business, and after that a number of new pirate organizations sprung up in the area around the Attican Traverse. The Alliance responded with the Corsair program, selling off their archaic frigates and cruisers to less than reputable sources, in exchange for their promise not to raid anything human for the time being. So, Turian raiders, Human raiders, and Batarian raiders all plundered the trade routes in the Attican Traverse in a politically correct method, targeting each other as well as possible trading competition. The Batarians were the best funded, and as a result the most numerous. In a few years the Alliance Corsairs wouldn't be able to keep up any longer.

"So, who are you borrowing this hauler from?"

"A human. Whom I will apologize to afterwards."

"A nice thought but what if its in use?" The catsuit she was wearing underneath her coat was slightly distracting. The knowledge that it cost as much as it took to service the Talon each year to make was just as distracting. "We can't be ruining their livelihood."

"The ship is a mega-hauler currently in the hands of some members of the Corsair program. They use it to haul stolen spacecraft into their shipyard to reuse and redeploy them. We will borrow it or buy it, considering that much of the Corsair program is funded by the Reds.. They listen to money. If they don't, there are another two haulers we can possibly get our hands on, but one is a Volus ship and the other belongs to a mercenary company in the Terminus Systems." Jack really did not want the Volus to be aware of Prothean technology, nor the Terminus Systems. That would get the attention of the Collectors too early. They would die eventually, and he would make sure of it.

"So, anything else we need to be aware of?"

"James, tell Amandeep it's time to leave. If my daughters catch up to me this whole plan will fall apart."

"More afraid of your children than your government?"

"I can't bribe my children as easily as I can the government." Jack clarified, heading for the bar. The feeling of his ship preparing for takeoff felt wonderful. Through long experience he knew that the localized gravity onboard made it nearly impossible to spill his drink. So he poured some of his favorite wine, and brought out a nice bottle for Hannah. She didn't take it. That was strange.

"Can't have fluids for a couple hours. Doctors used some sort of spinal medicine on me. Though I do thank you, your ship is never out of stock of what I need. Finding that elsewhere is hard." She gave it a long look before sliding it back into its slot in the wall. She settled into her chair to wait for them to break through the gravity well of the earth, completely comfortable in what could be the most expensive uniform in human space. A very wonderful uniform.

"I should thank you for your help with Miranda and Julia. That was not the best of moments for either of them." He offered, being civil.

"I did notice that they were rather well behaved. Though Julia has quite the hair color. Did you have to sleep with a lookalike, Jack? You could have just asked if you were interested." She remarked. She wasn't meeting his gaze, though. So she didn't have any threats behind it. Most people who threatened you looked for a reaction. She was expecting one.

"Would you have said yes? I was under the impression that you wanted a purely professional relationship!" He said mockingly. "Unheard of, to think that I would sleep with another redhead?" He gave her a mock glare. "You weren't giving me much to work with. So I went with another redhead to fulfill my quota."

"You have a quota?"

"Do you want to see my journal of conquests? It's not small. It also has pictures for perusal." He joked. It might exist somewhere. He didn't remember making one, but during one of his more inebriated moments he could probably claim to have made it.

"No thanks, Jack. As much as you may enjoy me reacting to whatever you've cooked up, I don't quite feel like it. Though our bet is still going, and I am looking forward to my ship. If i remember correctly, your files pointed to the Widow system?" She said, grinning. " Did they point to the Citadel?"

Jack drank some more of his wine. "The citadel, even though it is a space station, never moves. Its component arms spin, but it stays angled the same direction, as well as in the same stellar orbit. But without a star near by, the orbit is static. For some reason it remains in the same exact location, which is very odd. The fact that it was found and not known how it was made only makes it more curious. So, yes, the Citadel is there. Right where the archive said it would be. Or at least something of note to them."

"You think its a threat."

"I think that whoever put that in the archive was convinced that it killed their Empire. If they, being so much more powerful than us, couldn't win, what exactly was it that killed them?"

"Perhaps some other race had control of the Citadel and defeated them." Hannah offered. It was a logical conclusion. It was the only logical conclusion that didn't sound farfetched. Or perhaps he was just used to the idea that giant tentacled horrors were going to come out of deep space to kill them all.

"Or some sort of civil war started here. I hope to find out more in the Citadel's archives. If the other races haven't moved those to a more secure location. It appears that the Protheans honestly tried to leave behind a mark. I bet that we will have a hard time finding the ones that would have been left behind on the Citadel. Considering how long the Asari have been there, my bet is that they locked all of them up long before the Salarians got on the scene. It's what I would have done."

"I don't know. Asari seem pretty open minded about sharing with everyone." Hannah said. "The one I met wasn't that bad."

"Don't let the one I personally hired to be nice and help raise biotic children color your judgement. Asari are the leaders of the galaxy, and they will do anything as a race to maintain that position. If they felt that we were a threat, we would wish that the Turians had won the war. The Asari have a strong belief in a religion and racial superiority over all others. Their economy is the strongest, and the most controlling in the galaxy. The only economy that they don't have direct control over are the Quarians and our own. But that will change. It is a foregone conclusion that their claws will be holding onto our stock markets before too long."

"So, you are going to steal a Prothean Dreadnought because you believe the Asari are trying to control us?"

Jack nodded. "In a matter of speaking. First, the dreadnought, then the Asari. They can only control what they can convince to give them power. Money will be a strong motivator. When they get control of our lobbyists, then things will become more troublesome. Our military will need some sort of advantage before that happens. Fear of what we can do is our only defense until we can secure something stronger than that. Namely, whatever the Batarians just found."

Hannah nodded. "That makes a lot of sense. So where do you plan on hiding this dreadnought?"

Jack smiled. "There is only one place I could possibly hide it. Right out in the open. But we will need something to tow it. James, please set a course for Terra Nova. From there we will need to meet with some agents, and then we will meet with the final dealer on Elysium or head to Omega to buy out the Eclipse Mercenaries. I do not want to go to Omega, but that is what might happen."

"Well, Sir, just make sure that you don't have her pilot either ship. I know that she has piloted the _Talon_ in the past, but she hasn't flown anything in eight years. She isn't even rated for anything."

"Remind me to hire an extra pilot." He muttered. Hannah quipped a smile and noted it on her Omni-tool in shorthand.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note

I have changed the description of the story, to something a bit more unique. Some of you requested that I do that, so I will try that. I have very much enjoyed the PMs and reviews that have been sent in so far. Considering that I work as an IT technician, I get some time to write every day as I do my tasks. Something to do when I am not staring at Active Directory or Login Menu. I'll do my best to keep the updates coming, whether they be short or long chapters.

Also, please express your interest in my Poll, as you get to pick some decisions about the characters. If you feel that there is something in this story that you feel should be here, let me know. I'll consider your input.

Chapter 12

May 2164, Elysium Skybridge Cafe

"So, have you verified my identity yet?" Jack asked the african man across the table. "I don't have much time for your paranoia, Mr. White." Ironic in the extreme, that such a man with dark skin was named white. His country of origin was West Ghana, yet the last name of White was something only found in Black populations from the northern states of America. Jack knew he was being lied to on some level, but members of the Corsairs had good reason to keep their real names and identities hidden.

"I cannot say that we are comfortable with your business, Mr. Harper." White replied. "You represent a branch of the government that we don't feel comfortable speaking with. As much as your identity checks out,"

"As does my bank account." Jack noted quickly.

"..." He paused. "We did verify that you were as rich as you claimed. But even with that, you are responsible for the same branch of special forces agents that are responsible for capturing us."

"The agents of the Council are under the same rules to bring in the Batarian 'extremists' and Turian 'pirates' as well. We have some small actions that we do just to fulfill our obligations, but we have no intention of shutting down our best bet in defending against the Batarian menace. In fact, in a certain way I can offer you a deal that might calm down your bosses some."

"We are not in the habit of conversing with anyone without complete verification. There is still a few days until all of our checks are complete." White claimed.

Jack grinned. "Formality at best, and in reality it is just buying time for your leaders to decide if they want to risk association with me. I'll offer them a deal. I'll pay for the cost of the mega-hauler, as well as for an assumed fully loaded cargo hold of Helium-3 containers. That should cover the cost of the ship, assuming that you did indeed buy it," He joked, "As well as any costs of operating the ships you used to acquire it. It should also be enough to keep you in the fight."

"We don't," He started, but Jack kept on talking.

"You are taking losses every time you go into a fight against the Turians or the Batarians. More than you can sustain. Here I am offering you the money you'll need to go and buy some better frigates and cruisers from the Terminus, and I am doing everything in my power to help you. In fact, I had to bribe the Naval Committee into looking the other way when you were created."

White looked at him, his brown eyes gauging his words. "If that is true, then we need to verify exactly what you just said. We can't take any chances."

"The Naval Committee won't come out and officially have records of voting on your little program. They don't work like that. Deniability was built into your little charter. And I am simply buying a ship. That money can disappear wherever it is you want it to. I'll even pay you in credits." Jack offered. "But if you want me to do this for you, as I assume your higher-ups do, I need to make this transfer happen. I am on a short timetable, and I would prefer to get that ship within the day."

"Well, we couldn't give you the ship even if we tried. Not within that kind of timeframe." White said. "It isn't here. It was supposed to get here yesterday, but it has been running late. When it gets here, we did plan on selling it to you. It just hasn't arrived yet."

"Where did you lose contact with it?" Jack asked carefully.

"Hades Gamma. Routine pick up."

"You should have told me that earlier. If I find it, I'll pay you for it anyways. You and your group need all the help you can get." He stood up from the table and held out his hand. "Good Luck, Mr. White."

"Taylor. My name is Taylor." He offered.

"My name is Jack, for any future dealings. I and my lovely companion are going to be leaving. If we get lucky, you'll be receiving a payment in your accounts, Mr. Taylor." Jack sent a note that the tab at the bar for both them and their followers was paid for. He could at least be cordial. "Good luck out there. The Alliance doesn't know it, but you are the best defense we have right now. For as long as we can, we will support you. But when things burn out, bring this to my offices." Jack left his personal business card, a style that was mostly forgotten in this digital era. "Give that to my secretary, and you will get any job you feel capable of doing."

Jacob Taylor blinked. "Thank you." He meant it.

"Don't thank me yet. My employees are some of the hardest working in Alliance Space. I expect that after the Corsair program, you'll want to do some good." Jack grinned. "Bring as many friends and allies as you can. I'll have a use for you." A use that would not include sleeping with or being recruited by his daughter Miranda.

He left Jacob sitting in the dingy bar and Hannah joined him soon after. She was still carrying her bottle of whiskey. "You do know that I have better onboard." He said. "Why did you keep the mid-rate stuff?"

"Because I didn't pay for this. One of the other guys did. I at least want to be respectful. Isn't that your little idealism?"

"Usually just for being a gentleman, when someone pays for your drink you are at least cordial. If you are a woman that looks as good as you do, you can get away with refusing a few drinks. Better ones come to those who have at least some self-control."

"I get it." Hannah said, giving him a smile. "You're jealous."

"Hardly. I pay for your drinks and living expenses anyways. I don't have to be jealous of some miner who thinks he can pay half his weekly wage for the chance to have you look at him." He ran and operated Tartarus Station, at the cost of having the government pay for all of the upgrades to their agents. A monopoly on a good thing was still a good thing. A monopoly on Hannah Shepard's time was very much a good thing. Jealousy simply didn't factor in.

An aircar took them back to the _Talon_. James already had enough notification to get the docking authorities dealt with and the engines warmed up. Jack just tipped the driver with enough to pay for his entire week, and then walked over to his ship.

"Where are we headed to now, Sir?" James' curt voice called.

"Hades Gamma System. We are looking for the," He paused, looking at his Omni-tool. "_Big Bertha_."

"I bet that you're going to rename that." Hannah muttered.

"No bet." Amandeep, James, and Jack all replied. Amandeep was working on one of the electric panels next to the bar, and his thick Urdu accent got everyone's attention. He noticed this, seeing everyone looking at him. "Mistah Har'pa has good taste. No one wan' a ship named Bertah."

"He speaks the truth." Jack said. "But I am sure it is going to be in some bad shape if the Corsairs acquired it. It will require some work to get back to capable conditions. Though don't try too hard. I fully expect to consign it over to the Corsairs after we pay for some repairs. They'll need it to cart stolen materials back to Alliance Space. Or repurposed, if we want to call it that. But I think that we are not the only people who needed a mega-hauler. James, when we get to Hades Gamma, look for the _Bertha_. If it isn't showing up, I have a feeling that I know where it will be."

The trip from Elysium to its Relay, and from there to Hades Gamma was spent in relative peace. Jack played with some stock, one of his hobbies when he was bored, and got some sleep. Hannah slept for the entire fourteen hour trip. James had to be convinced to let the ship go on autopilot for the trip from Elysium to its relay, as he hadn't slept in a bit. Jack even had enough time to order a few items online for what they would need. Or at least if things worked out.

Eventually everyone showed up when smells of Indian food dragged them downstairs. Amandeep had warmed up some food bought on Elysium, where a very large number of Indians had settled. He of course picked his favorites, which Jack had trouble pronouncing but loved nonetheless. The Indians had some of the best food, considering that Elysium had a large continent in the same form and style of India itself, and was very popular for them. More importantly, their crops could grow there. So the fresh ingredients were a matter of respect.

This led to high quality food that they didn't need to go to Earth for. Everyone was much happier after that. Then Jack went and got up to his console as they entered the Hades Gamma system. With a flash of light, the mass relay dumped them in the disc that was the Hades Gamma main system. There were a few others, of course mapped by the other races. Since humans were so demanding of respect, they took all of the names that the Aliens and other races had named the galaxy and renamed them yet again in their computers. Because they were so self-centered, these names had to be then cross referenced with the alien names and made sure that they didn't accidentally match.

So, coming into the Anteius System, they were immediately scanned by one of the comm buoys and connected to the local networks. "James, lets fuel up and discharge our drive core, and prepare for a bit of a trip. I have some idea of what may have happened to the ship." He commed. After that, he dove into the message buoy, finding out what ships were in system. Many were labeled as anonymous, as you could easily trick the public message buoys. But what was harder to mask was the size of the craft. The buoys did measure the mass of an object, which meant it was easy to look through that method.

What he found worried him. There had been two ships that had passed through this area recently that had the tonnage to be listed as the right class of ship. One was 915 meters long, and the other was 650, making their identifications rather easy. Jack knew exactly what those ships were, even if the system had them labeled as Anonymous. One was _Big Bertha_, for certain. The other was the _Eye of K'hesh_, the largest ship in the Batarian fleet. Which meant that Jack not only had to deal with normal difficulties, but a Batarian dreadnought was in the area. Hopefully it was not in the middle of things, but knowing his luck, it would be at the most inconvenient place possible.

"James, keep an eye out for pirates of any type. We look rather tasty."

"Maybe next time we should bring something with guns out this far. What do you think, Sir?"

"Civilians technically shouldn't own military craft. But when that law is lifted, I promise you'll have the best you can get. A frigate or cruiser with real leather seats."

"Glad to know you'll have your same standards of excellence. I would hate to use the bathrooms in the military ships. Always so small."

"So should I have real beds instead of sleeper pods?"

James groaned happily over the comm channel. "Sir, I am sold. I'll even help you recruit the rest of the crew."

"I have found out that _Bertha_ discharged her drive core and went to FTL somewhere in system. The Alliance has very little in the way of assets in any of these systems yet, but the Batarians have assets in two of the systems. They have an active survey team going in the Dis system, as well as some sort of mining operation going on here. Which one do you think they will want a mega-hauler for?"

"The mining operation is for Aluminum and Tin, and doesn't produce enough resources to justify a ship of that tonnage." Hannah added into the comm channel.

"That's cheating, Hannah. Now James doesn't get to guess."

"No its not, you are looking at the same data I am. If the _Bertha_ is still here, it is most likely in the Dis system. The Batarian survey is supposedly investigating some tiny little rock named Jartar. James, fuel up and get us there. On the edge of the system, kill the engines and let us drift inwards. Jartar is the fourth planet, and shouldn't have too much heat to reflect off of our panels and light us up." He figured that the _Talon_ might be able to hide more of its presence if they didn't give off a lot of heat. They would still give off a slight amount of heat, but hopefully not enough for sensors to see them.

The FTL trip to Dis took long enough. The system was empty. Only a few things were moving. Most of that was asteroids and rogue planetoids, but there was clearly some sort of activity by Jartar. Jack walked down to the cockpit. He had turned off anything that gave off a signal, including the onboard internal comms. So he walked past Hannah, who was in the hall in her stealthsuit. He did take one long appreciative glance as she leaned against the wall. Just to make sure she knew she still made things look good at the age of 32. The rising medical technology certainly helped with that. It certainly helped the body maintain its youth. A couple of centuries back the new saying had been that '30 is the new 20,' which wasn't actually true.

Only now that they had been exposed to the Salarian technologies was that possible, or even true. The short-lived race had an era of their development where they had been obsessed with extending their lifespan. That technology could be applied to all species, technically, and much of that technology helped them develop the genophage. Humanity loved it. Extending the amount of time that a person can be fertile, young, and happy led to a nicer outlook for Humanity as they entered the galactic economy.

"James, any trouble?" He asked, walking into the cockpit. Hannah was obviously behind him, but he didn't hear her walking. A point of pride, probably. Along with years of practice. Jack still treated everything he did as if he were under active surveillance still. His operations and what he was working on was too risky to involve the Alliance in at this point, and until he had evidence that the Reapers existed, and were a real threat, they wouldn't believe him.

"Yeah. They got a frigate up there that'll see us coming from a mile away." He pointed at the navigation console. "I have a few more sensor shadows in other places, so it might be safe to assume that they have fighters or gunships out here too. But compared to the usual amount of defense around a dreadnought, we might have a chance."

"Hannah. Are you rated for space combat?" He asked, knowing she was there.

She decloaked, looking slightly annoyed. "Not exactly?" She said, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I did train in that, but that was before we made First Contact. So, I might be a little out of practice."

Jack shrugged. "Alright, then I am driving. I was going to send James, but I think he would get worried. He hasn't gotten rated for one of these yet." Jack pointed to a large box that was stuck in one of the maintenance hallways. "I believe that we can ride that into the _Bertha._ Or at least get close enough for you to stealth in."

Hannah groaned. "Oh, not one of those death traps! One of these almost killed me the other day!"

Julia groaned. "Daddy has been gone forever!"

Miri didn't look up from her tablet. "He left us homework and vid messages."

"It's not the same!" Julia said, pacing. "Without him here he can't teach me anything. The vids don't let me ask questions…"

"If you were better at typing maybe you could just message him when you have questions." Miri said without any emotional tone. She didn't want to leave her book that she was reading, Julia could tell.

"Let's go play!" Julia said, immediately coming up with a fun idea. She could hear the vacuum drone outside the door. She turned on her Omni-tool, bringing up the program that Daddy had shown her last time she had tutoring with him. "I know how to hack Drones now!"

Miri looked up from her tablet. "Ok. I wanna see you hack a drone." Miri got off the chair and walked towards the door.

"You be my lookout, ok?"

Miri nodded. Ten minutes later, they found out why vacuum drones have a governor installed on them. Releasing that means that a vacuum drone can go around fifteen miles an hour, and for a four foot long drone with a vacuum attachment, that is quite impressive. For the girls, moving at such a speed was the first time in their life that they had ever moved that fast that they could perceive.

"We're gonna die!" The vacuum drone plowed through one of the sliding doors, the rubber lining of the door and the metal siding of the drone squealing as they scratched against one another. Julia was instantly regretting this idea, but Miri was loving it. She was as far forward on the drone as she could get, eyes wide open and screaming at the top of her lungs. Julia was at the back, trying to steer the drone using its large vacuum appendage. That wasn't working very well.

"Stairs!" Both girls yelled, one in fear and the other in anticipation. The thundering that followed jarred both of them, and Miranda started laughing. Julia bit her tongue. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, a few people had started jumping out of the way. But one person at the middle of the walkway was not paying complete attention. They both recognized her easily, with her blue skin and head-scalies.

"Miss Nyra!"

The Asari woman turned around and started glowing blue. One of her hands lashed out, a blue ball getting bigger and bigger on the floor as they and their hacked drone neared it. When they ran over it, the drone and them were both covered in the same blue glow, and left the ground completely. Julia tried swimming but all it did was make her float further away from the ground. Miri ended up started to spin, while the drone and its vacuum attachment went spiralling off towards the geodome. The feeling of being weightless was better than the feeling of being near about to crash.

Then Julia felt an arm grab her left leg. With a yelp she was dragging downwards to have her face by at eye level with Nyra's. Miri was right there with her. "What do you two think you are doing?"

"Flying?" Miri offered.

"Getting in trouble is more like it. Both of you are coming with me to explain this to your _siara_."

"Our what?"

"First generation translation software. Figures the important titles hadn't been worked out yet." Nyra sighed. "Let's go see Harper about this. You both could have hurt someone."

Miranda and Julia didn't say anything, knowing that anything they said could be held against them. Daddy always told them to only say what was needed, and nothing more. They did wince when the vacuum drone crashed into one of the geodome supports with a loud noise, the vacuum attachment still trying suck at any sources of dust around. Nyra gave it a glance, and let go of Julia for a moment to do something else with her biotics. Julia floated uselessly around her, watching as Nyra drew her right hand back, another burst of bluish energy jumping towards the vacuum drone. It was gently yanked towards the ground, where it landed on its back and its wheel spun uselessly.

"Whoa." They both said, and they could hear the echoes of whispering and giggling from around the corner. Two of the older kids from their biotic classes were over there, snickering at them. Julia tried to give them some rude hand motion, but only succeeded in sending herself into a spin.

Nyra made sure the drone was under control before looking over at the snickering boys. "You two want to see what it feels like to be inside of a Singularity?" She asked, but with her second voice Julia couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. "Well, Charles? Kaiden? Do you want to?"

They both shook their heads, and ran off. Miranda and Julia were eight, but they were at least five or six years older than them. They were much bigger. "Can you really lift them up too?" Miranda asked. Julia was nabbed by Nyra's other hand, and she was carefully guided back to the floor. When her feet touched the ground, she could feel gravity suddenly return. Miranda barely recovered. She was still not quite touching the floor.

"I have lifted _Krogan_." Nyra said answering Miri.

"What's a Krogan?" Julia asked, sounding out the word. She thought she had heard the word before, but wasn't sure. It wasn't something familiar.

Nyra gave them a smile. "It's a big creature, maybe seven feet tall and around," the rest of her words descended into some sort of flutey noises. Julia realized that must have been her actual language. "So they're big. Where is your _siara_?"

Miranda answered, since Julia was not as willing. "Daddy is doing business somewhere. He will be back in a week." She said, since that was what his Omni-tool message had said. He didn't always get back exactly when he said he would, but he was always there for important things. Once, for their birthday, he was late to the theatre he had promised to take them to. Daddy had flown in on his shuttle and parked it illegally so he wasn't late. She still giggled at how the policeman tried to arrest him.

"Who is watching you, then?" Nyra asked.

"Nanny." They both said. This one wasn't a pushover. She was hard to slip past, but Miranda was very creative at getting past her. Julia preferred the more subtle ways.

"Well. Let's go find her. You two are in trouble for causing this mess. You should be thankful you are human. Asari would be in so much more trouble." Julia looked up at her with big eyes, curious but a little bit terrified. "When Asari children get in trouble, we make them walk between the Temples of Athame on Thessia." Nyra let that sink in. "That is eight of your miles, and mostly stairways."

Julia did not like that idea. "Can we not do that?"

"If I have anything to say about that, No. I'll leave your _siara_ to be the one to choose that." She started pushing them forward. "Alright, lead the way to your nanny."

One of the adults that came to clean up the vacuum drone, pulling out his Omni-tool and bringing up a diagnostic. But their gaze lingered on Nyra and the children as they walked away. "_Sapphire is go. Nest is clear."_

Jack Harper was technically not rated for this. But since he was the closest to it, he was the one chosen to drive. Since space was so easy to knock off your direction, whoever had to ride with him had to position themselves in such a way as not to throw off their course. She was straddling his body very closely, that in any other situation might be considered indecent.

Unfortunately they were under radio silence, as they had to pass by the Batarian frigate. The _Talon _ had come out of its cold start and rushed off to the outer edge of the system, immediately jumping to FTL. The frigate and a couple of fighters came out of the asteroid belt, and went after the ship. Jack regretted that, but had to use his own ship as bait to get that frigate away from Jartar.

The small planet had around a tenth of earth's gravity, and only 8% of the mass. A heavy little dirtball. Mostly sand, with a few mining deposits. But the great gravity well of the small planet promised that at least something in it was worth mining. It was probably what brought the Batarian survey team. But what Jack was here for was very different. Mining rights were all well and good, but if the Batarians succeeded here, their entire empire would fall.

There was hardly any atmosphere to plow through or get burnt in. The flight harness designed for the specialist Engineer class was usable by anyone. Jack was not the best at flying it. But once on the planet, they could hide in the clouds of gases that dotted the surface. The entire planet was made with silicates, and the dust that blew up from that covered much of the planet. So Jack just had a nice cruise towards the location where both a dreadnought and a mega-hauler were. They were both at opposite edges of a large crater in the planet's crust.

Buried in that crater was a Reaper, killed a very long time ago. His memories were not very clear, but this was a certified dead Reaper. But it was also a source of all kinds of troublesome technologies. Plasma weapons, FTL jump drives, and of course, Indoctrination. This Reaper was one of the larger sizes, but its Element Zero core was gone. He could tell that since it was never awakened in the millions of years it had sat here. That didn't stop it from being a threat to his plans, though.

From their view, they couldn't see what the Batarian dreadnought was doing. It could come into atmosphere, since the force of gravity was tiny. The large ship appeared to be on one side of the crater, while the mega-hauler was on the other. The hauler wasn't moving much, and had long cables going down into the crater. A massive storm of silicate particles were being thrown up from the crater, from something the dreadnought was doing. Jack grinned. Wind wasn't much of a factor with the harness, and if it wasn't for the bulky space suit that Hannah had to wear over her stealthsuit he would find this situation much more to his liking.

Either way, as he brought the harness in, he angled for the top of the hauler. It was a very crappy ship, by modern standards. Even by his memories' standards. The potholes and scorch marks from bad re-entries had never been cleaned, and the soot and dirt from countless landings were a near biological hazard to any planet it landed on. Probably the reason that it was stolen. But the nice thing about it being such a craggy ship was the easy landing areas. Jack brought the harness down on top of the ship, he and Hannah engaged their magnetic boots.

They screeched a little bit when the harness caught up to them. Being in one tenth of Earth's gravity made any action an overestimation of how much force was needed. It took inordinately longer to get the harness off, and strapped down to the side of the ship. Then they had to find an access hatch that hadn't been welded shut or bent too far to open. Hannah was the first to find one, and they got into an old airlock on the top of the hauler. That was actually difficult, requiring his full strength. He had to try very hard to not have Hannah find any reason to not view him as a weaker man. He would definitely have a bit of soreness in his back, but he got the hatch open.

Inside the rust and decay in the ship became more evident. The dust from the storm outside started flying in, carpeting the somewhat untouched floor. Hannah jumped down without a sound, only disturbing the ground where she landed. Jack tried to jump, but the lack of gravity threw him off. He landed in a heap and bounced back upwards, managing to right himself before landing again.

She didn't say anything, but he could tell she thought it was funny. He had to hold back a comment, considering the radio silence. She looked at him, and pointed at the faded sign on the wall. Where to, from here. He wasn't intimately familiar with the schematics of these craft, but he knew that they had a large interior section, with the outer sections being for storing gases and liquids. Jack figured that this one had been modified some, as they were somewhat modular. At this point, he figured that the smaller the number, the more likely it was to lead to the bridge. He pointed to the left, where the Batarian numbers went downwards.

They walked for a few hundred feet before coming into the main bay. It was laid out along the entire ship, wider in some places and smaller in others. The area they were on allowed them to walk across the main bay on the catwalks above. Down on the ground level, they could only see a couple of figures moving. It was completely empty down here. Nothing was in the cargo bay, but a shuttle in the near end by the control room. That must have been their ride in. The shuttle looked new, while most of the ladders and other things were worn down or rusted.

He pointed at the shuttle and held up six fingers. Only six Batarians could fit in that model of shuttle. He then pointed at the two on the floor and motioned that they were two of the enemies. Hannah nodded, and dropped her heavy armor. The breather suit she needed for just getting to the _Bertha_. Now that she was in the air-cycled chambers, she ditched the breather suit and shimmied it off of her body. They stashed it off to one of the entrance corridors to the main hangar, and then she moved for the ladder that seemed to be in the best condition. He gave her a thumbs up as she went, receiving a nod in return.

He didn't have to wait long. The two guards dropped, one with enough blood pouring out that Hannah must have taken half his windpipe with the knife when she withdrew it. The second guard was almost jokingly removed, Hannah not even turning on her cloak to remove him. Jack started down the ladder at that point. When he got to the bottom, Hannah had piled the guards behind the shuttle and was near the door. She was ready to cloak again at any time. Jack calmly walked towards the door, even taking the time to light a cigarette. With one hundred meters from the ladder to the door, he was perfectly within his rights to take a smoke break.

"You done taking your time over there, Jack?" Hannah asked when he finally got to the door.

"I'll need my breath for the fight, of course. So thank you for being so worried about my well being." He motioned to his belt. "Smoke and flashbangs ready to go. I'll only start shooting if they try to contact anyone. These ships are a bit touchy, so let's assume they are in the middle of pulling that Prothean Dreadnought out."

Hannah shrugged. "Why don't we just wait until they finish up and do all the work for us. We can kill them and take control of the ship after they do the hard work." Jack shrugged, considering it to be an alright idea. He walked over to the Batarian shuttle, and synched himself into their comm networks. It was mostly jabbering, and he was not that great at Batarian. They had versions of every word that changed based on the caste using it and the caste the comment was being directed to. The language didn't have a clear run of things, since to stop speaking you give the right to speak to someone else. Batarians had more nose strength and the ability to breathe while speaking, making talking over them hard. No one was talking about the hauler, which was good. Though it could have been a number of things, considering the Batarian language.

"You can understand that garbage?" Hannah asked, seeing him listening.

"Learned it after I learned Asari. We don't have the lung capacity or capability of speaking Salarian, or the natural forms of communication that elcor and hanar use. Drell can speak anything else easy enough, and Volus trade language is mostly numerical. I learned what I thought I could."

"You are a gifted man, Jack. How come we haven't seen a general translator or dictionary yet?"

"I did publish one, through a front company. Hybrid Graphics Solutions released them."

"You mean those super expensive versions that only a few people can afford? You ass." Hannah said.

"It wasn't easy. I deserve at least a little payback for learning those languages." Jack said. He wouldn't have been able to do any of that if it weren't for the fact that he was cheating and using his old memories to go by. He technically already had known Turian and Asari for decades. He just needed the legal right and the right timing to make a large amount off of the translation program he sold. He couldn't just give it away for free, but two hundred credits seemed fair for a single translation program. If he gave it away for free and his business partners found out, they would begin to doubt his resolve.

Jack Harper was well known as a ruthless businessman. Shrewd, calculating, dangerous, words that all could be used to describe him. He did not want anyone thinking he was weak in any sense of the word. He was one of those people that could count on being targeted for his support of the Alliance as well as with Tartarus Station. So he couldn't give away the translation software for free. But he could set the price, so that when alien translation software hit the market, that they would have to accept his much lower price. He had set a standard that made a piece of software that would soon become integral cheaper than what it originally was. It was a roundabout way of making the economy stronger.

"They are the perfect price to respect a need for profit and a need to provide something to the people. It also comes with a lifetime warranty and daily updates for each of Earth's main spoken languages. It even includes French."

She gave him a level stare. "I still haven't gotten an apology for what you did to me in France."

"I am not apologizing for managing to sneak you in while under active surveillance. More importantly, you requested that we meet. I still haven't gotten a thank you card for France." He offered, looking at her expectantly. The red of her face heating up was all the answer he needed. "I wonder if you've ever had a situation that needed such an interesting cover in the last eight years…"

"Jack! Just… find out when they are going to be done pulling out the ship." Hannah said, not wanting to talk about it. Though it was obvious that she had been in some interesting situations, she was also theoretically not supposed to mention it. He did laugh about the look on her face, though.

He was listening to the chatter, and from what he could understand, the Batarian dreadnought was kicking up all of the silicate so that the body of the craft could be pulled out of the crater. The mega-hauler was supposed to pull it out of orbit and be protected by the other ships as they took this corpse back to Khar'Sharn. So, they were right where they needed to be. It would only be an hour or two before the mega-hauler had to break orbit.

"Hannah, go look in the surrounding corridors. The docking collars are all on this level. There are no cameras or lifesign sensors anywhere. If we can remove the others onboard, we won't have to watch our backs as closely. So go look in the surrounding compartments, and get back to me in about an hour. You'll know when we get to FTL. A ship this big will shake quite a bit getting there, especially with a heavy load."

"So what do we do if we aren't stealing it before it gets to FTL?"

Jack smiled. "It will be a seven or eight hour trip through FTL back to Anteius. We have that as a window where we can steal the ship, come out of FTL, and then go take it somewhere else in this nebula for our own purposes. This is a Prothean Dreadnought that they are stealing, and we are going to steal it from them and then keep it to ourselves. Trying to escape to the relay with this is just going to be impossible. They'll be watching it like a hawk, since the Kite's Nest is right there. With their homeworld one relay jump away, they will have their eyes and ears all over this cluster."

"So, where do you expect to hide something of this magnitude?"

"I am thinking somewhere in dark space, where they won't think of jumping too quickly. Some nice background radiation and all sorts of nasty things to keep its signature protected." And by extension killing the Reaper's components without having the potential catastrophe of throwing it into a sun and the blowback from that. Enough people would see the flare from throwing a Reaper into a sun. Just letting it rot in dark space would be fine.

"I'll go look for more of them. Crew quarters are on the two levels on top of the control center. You should check those out while I go see the docking collars." Hannah said, getting up and walking into the hallway. Jack took the time to lift up one of the floor panels and dump the bodies into it. There were thousands of nooks and crannies in this ship, and he had no intention of looking in all of them. At an almost leisurely pace, he walked back to the doorway and set a motion tracking device on it. That way if any of the Batarians came out of the control center he would receive notification on his Omni-tool. With all of the rust and grime it was easy to conceal.

Then he walked up the stairs to the crew compartment, seeing no signs of life. Some blood marks on the walls showed who had occupied it previously, and were probably here and in the control center when the ship got boarded. He looked for any kind of last wills, testaments, and keepsakes. He found a few and a couple of nice weapon mods tucked away in places. Small change for him, but nice enough to use if he needed it. It didn't compare with what his pistol had equipped, some keepsakes from the First Contact War. Only slightly illegal, but right now they were in an area that no one would be able to arrest him over it. There were no laws that were recognized this far out.

He fought the urge to whistle a tune, a habit he had picked up in the last couple of years. Watching childrens shows sometimes left the tunes stuck in your head for hours afterwards, with the only outlet that seemed sane being to hum them as you walked places. That evolved to whistling. So he just walked carefully, keeping quiet, and made it back to the main hold. He set himself up on one of the upper walkways, maybe thirty feet above the doorway to the control center.

One anti personnel mine later, and the stairs up to him were secure. Hannah still hadn't returned, meaning that she was stalking something. Or someone. They still needed to secure the engine room, which was near the back of the ship. No point in going there unless they had to. But, with the way things were going, it wasn't worth taking much time. It would be a long while before Hannah got back, and the chance of anyone finding the guards was low.

He walked to the side hallways, and started making his way down towards the engine room. It was a long walk, and he didn't expect to find anyone out there. When he got near the churning noise that was the engine working, he started moving more carefully. He couldn't hear anything but the heavily churning engine, and didn't have anything for military grade armor. His suit was nice enough, and meant for extra vehicular space endeavors, but the Batarians might have better equipment at this stage of human development.

So, a silenced pistol was all he had. In this riot of noise it wouldn't matter, so he just held it out. He leaned his head towards the side of the door, barely letting his face stick around the corner. With his eye at the furthest angle, he could see two Batarians inside. Both were wearing their helmets, which meant they had their barriers up. Killing them would be difficult for his little pistol. So, he decided to engage them later. Hannah would be better at killing them and getting out without trouble. Also, killing the people maintaining this engine was probably a bad idea.

So, he walked back to the control room, finding a familiar hourglass-shaped blur sitting on the front of the shuttle. He just sat down behind it, so that the door to the control room was on the other side. He would at least have some cover if someone opened the door. Hannah stayed cloaked, obviously enjoying the many ports for power injection in this part of the ship.

"Find anyone?" He asked quietly.

"Found an airlock that had another shuttle. It was welded on, though, and someone shot out the cockpit. Terminus made, not sure whose it was." So no obvious blood marks or items to suggest anyone owning it.

"I checked out the engine room. Two of them are in there, handling the trouble that this ship is sure to be putting out. If we go by how many can fit in the shuttle, that leaves two others in the control room. All of them have helmets and armor, which means that I would prefer you went in and killed them."

"You can't handle doing the dirty work?" She asked, coming out of cloak. "Or just prefer micromanaging?"

"Both, of course. Though the scenery is much better when you do it. Not to mention you are the one trained to kill and remove them silently. So, once we actually break atmosphere we will kill the ones in the control room, and then go after the guys in the back. I can do a decent impersonation of a pissed off Batarian, and the one speaking is a minor noble. He can safely insult the rest of his crew with no chance of being yelled back at himself. So I can impersonate him rather well." He said, listening to the chatter. Since the shortwave was mostly talking about how the ship's remains were almost clear of the crater, Jack figured that he had some time.

Twenty minutes later, the chatter exploded as the Reaper corpse must have cleared the crater. It was tied to the mega-hauler, and the Batarian Dreadnought was doing the hard work of getting all of the extra mass out of the gravity well, while the hauler did its job and pulled. The mega-hauler had eight strong tow lines with over thirty kilometers of extra line in rolls inside the outer edges of the ship. When all eight of those were engaged, it could create enough force to tow anything. The Dreadnought was just needed to get the dangling bits out of the crater.

He wasn't sure if the Batarians did it this way the first time, but the STG were in the area too. He would have to plan on avoiding them as well. But no one could predict that a mega-hauler would be boarded and taken over. Unless you were Jack Harper. So he might have left some extra motion sensors at obvious insertion points. Not enough, of course. Hannah had gone on the right side of the ship, and he hadn't had quite enough for sensors to be placed over that side of the ship. He did place one sensor over the doorway that Hannah had walked through. Strangely, the sensor hadn't gone off on that door.

"Did you disable my sensor on the side door?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Air vents. Found a stash of credits there and followed the trail to a small console hidden inside. Wiped clean of any Alliance related files now."

He nodded. "Alright. Just in case we aren't the only ones with this plan, I placed a few sensors on a couple of places. No betting against the STG, I think. None of those sensors have gone dark, so I am reasonably sure that we are secure and the only people onboard this craft ready to steal it. This time around, at least."

"Are you going to keep the name? It doesn't seem your style."

"Of course I'll keep the name. It has some history. We also haven't seen if the cockpit has the required leather seats. _Bertha_ has all kinds of connotations."

She grinned. "The original name was lost, but apparently it was some Quarian ship when it was last stolen by the Batarians. They called it the _Hoch_. The Batarians renamed it, something i can't pronounce, and then Corsairs got it. So _Bertha_ here has a long history indeed." She said, reading some file off her Omni-tool. "This was all on the console i found."

Well, that protected the Alliance from any actual blowback for all of this. His ownership hadn't been confirmed on the craft yet, so it couldn't be shown that he was involved. If the ship disappeared, then only the Batarians would be held accountable. Perhaps the Salarians would prove that they were aware of the Reaper and attract some of the trouble. Either way, someone was going to attract political trouble over this and it would not be him.

"Perfect work. We should be leaving soon. Once we clear Jartar, we will take control of the bridge. I'll tell the engine room crew to make sure things are running alright. Then you can get rid of them as well."  
"Because you'll presumably be busy?" She mocked.

"I was the one who became certified in navigation, while you got better at just killing other people." He noticed that the ship was shaking a bit more than it was earlier. "That's our queue. They must be dragging the Prothean Dreadnought by now." He lit a cigarette. "Well, go take over the bridge. The air filtration system is the same as the crew quarters, and should be able to be accessed easily enough."

Hannah rolled her eyes and walked off, slipping off into some area of the ship. He got into action himself, coming over near the bridge door and preparing his shotgun. If things got ugly, he was going in there. More importantly, he put a sensor module on the door to the crew quarters, which gave him some idea of when Hannah was going in. Thankfully it beeped. But so did the sensor for the engine room. That meant the Batarians in the engine room were on the move. By the sensor's report, both of them had gone past. They were going to be moving along the main hangar bay, and it would be clear what happened as soon as they didn't see the guards.

He pulled out his rifle, his worst weapon. Then he opened one of the deck plates and slid himself into the piped compartment, with only his rifle sticking out. He had armor that was on par with the Batarian armor, as well as weapons that would at least put one of them down. He didn't want to be in an open position like the upper walkway, but there were no pieces of cover in the hangar bay besides the shuttle. They might need that later.

When the Batarians didn't walk in the hangar bay, he knew something was wrong. They must be using one of the side hallways. There were eight hallways that could access the area, and ran the length of the ship. Trying to guess which one was going to be hard. He put his ear towards the comm device on his Omni-tool so that he could hear better.

"_Grazz. Get your hide to those bay doors and get them open! Banz-Jal wants to get the other shuttle onboard right now! Grazz! Report in!_"

He got out of his sniper nest quickly and ran for the door controls for the main hangar bay. _That_ little piece of machinery he placed an explosive on, for tampering. Then he went to the door to the control room. That he walked quietly up to, and got his shotgun out. The room behind this door he was at should be no longer than twenty feet long, and then a small window to see out the front of the craft. He didn't bother waiting, and just charged in. What he saw when he got inside were four Batarians. Two were already dead and the other two had their guns pointed at one of their fellows. Jack did them a favor and shot the one furthest from the corpse, making the other take cover.

A shower of sparks from an overload took them back out of cover, Hannah leaping over the console and going hand to hand with the one closer to her. Jack did her a favor and shot the remaining alien, letting his helmet fill his entire scope as he took the shot. Why someone put a scope on a shotgun he would never figure out, but it certainly made him feel a lot better. Hannah took a moment to finish off the other Batarian, the blood from her knife spraying across the console.

Jack didn't check to see if any of the Batarians survived. He first disabled outgoing signals from the ship. Then he tried to access the ship channels, but couldn't find any signs of the two roaming Batarians in the craft.

"Make sure these are dead and start looking for the last two. They'll be trying to-" A loud explosion rocked the ship. "That might be them dying. Go check the main door controls."

Hannah nodded, leaving one knife in the neck of a soldier and walking off. The one Jack shot, apparently. Kill stealing him, when all he had tried to do was help her out. Ungrateful woman. He could see no hull breach warnings or loss of grip on any of the tow cables holding the Reaper. The navigation console was already highlighted for an FTL jump to the relay leading to the Kite's Nest, where Kar'Sharn was located. That wasn't going to happen.

He reoriented the coordinates for dark space, located somewhere near a halfway point to the relay. He started typing, making sure that the coordinates were accepted by the old computer system. He had to at least pick a route that was on the same direction as the relay, otherwise the Batarians might notice.

Hannah came back a moment later. "Shuttle is gone. They accidentally blew it up with some sort of explosive that took out the door controls as well. Lost some of the floor, but there are multiple layers. I think we got them all."

"Good, my bomb actually killed someone. I would hate to just do nothing this time around." He said sarcastically as he finished the navigation calculations.

"_We are jumping._" Jack said in clear Batarian, minor to superior caste, over the open channel.

"_We heard something wrong with your sensors. Report."_ Came a clear voice, upper caste to minor caste.

Jack calmly replied. "_One of the rusted bulkheads bent when we broke atmosphere. No damage to any of the cables. We are still rated to jump._" He turned off the communications console and turned to Hannah. "A little rusty, but I think it will be enough."

A reply came. _"You are clear to jump. If the artifact is even barely scratched further, pray to the Gods that you are found innocent. I won't find you as such."_ Jack shrugged. He jumped to FTL immediately, and then started working to disable the IFF system. that would have to be done by hand, but could be easily done while they were in FTL. Hannah dumped the bodies outside after looting them of anything of value. He was glad that he had some armor on, because this rusted piece of work had its IFF in a small crawlspace under the main console. Bolted on, actually.

When he had that off, he then started pulling them out of FTL. Contrary to some writers of the earlier centuries, dropping out of faster than light speeds took a considerable amount of fuel and effort. The tow cables had to hold onto the Reaper as they decelerated, so it took nearly half an hour to decelerate. Even then the groaning of the hull was felt more than heard.

Then, and only once they had come to a drifting stop, did he unblock communications again. "James, when you get this, go to the coordinates I wrote on the mirror at the bar. They should be accurate, and from there I will need your help. I can't drive this very easily."

Then he went through the process of turning the ship a different direction and sending it into faster than light speeds again. This time without a team of Batarian engineers to manage it. One of the tow cables snapped. Seven held on, but with only Hannah there was no way he could reconnect it. They were strained when he came back out of FTL again five hours later, in dark space near the relay in the Anteius system. They were between clusters and slightly below the galactic plane. With only a couple frigates and a dreadnought, the Batarians didn't have much chance of finding them. Nor would they assume anything was wrong for at least another two hours, when the hauler was supposed to show up in the system.

Waiting for them at the sketchy coordinates in dark space was his little pearl of a ship, and he had to use the auxiliary manual controls to open the main hangar doors. The _Talon_ slipped right inside, parking with room to spare on the back half of the ship. Amandeep and James walked off the ramp that extended from the front of the yacht and looked around. James whistled to hear the echo, and Amandeep spat on the rusty deck plates.

"Sah, you do no pay enough for me to fix this." Amandeep said.

"This thing is going to fly like a brick. Where are we taking that old ship?"

"That old ship is going to raise hell anywhere we try to ship it. It is assumed to be a Prothean Dreadnought. So, using this cargo hauler, we are going to only take a single piece of the old ship with us. I would prefer that we take its main cannon. Weapons technology that would put us ahead of the Turians is my first goal. Propulsion and energy solutions follow. Though I do ask that we not board that ship until we are perfectly aware of what is onboard. Mechs only at first."

"We don't have any mechs. What is so dangerous about a dead ship?"

"That ship was on a low gravity world and wasn't recovered or investigated following its crushing defeat. I assume its booby trapped or worse. I don't want anyone boarding it until we are sure its safe." Jack gave each of them a look. "None of you are expendable. That's what mechs are for. James, get over here and get this ship uncabled without it spinning off into oblivion." He looked over at Amandeep, who was looking at one of the consoles with a look of distaste. "Amandeep, see what the maximum amount of force is that the hangar bay doors can exert. We need to clip off a part of the old ship. We will use the doors to close over the object and keep it safe from prying eyes."

"So where is this piece of technology headed?"

"The Ark Facility." He said simply. "It is a secret deep space research facility run by the Alliance that is the source of some of our more notorious technology."

"I thought that didn't exist." James said.

"You've made deliveries there before, James. They are right next door to my favorite viewing spot." Mercury and Venus made good planets to hide facilities on, since they had moons that could support domes, as well as being in the center of the solar system and easily protected. "The entrance is that little stop and go restaurant next to Venus. They have a mining facility down on the planet that conceals the rest. If that isn't clear enough all of you have signed non-disclosure agreements detailing your involvement in my business. That includes not mentioning that."

"So, you are going to take a suspicious Batarian owned mega-hauler into the heart of alliance space?" Hannah asked. "How is that going to get through customs? Patrols?"

Jack's Omni-tool pinged. "My purchase has just been confirmed. Hannah, apply the new tags. _Big Bertha_, owned by me, but owned directly by the Gunderson Brothers LLC. The tags are in your junk email folder, most likely. James, get us unlatched, and ready to snap shut on the main cannon from that ship. Amandeep ignore the obvious problems this ship has and just work on the hangar door servos."

Jack himself worked on the _Talon_, getting the money transferred and alerting the corsairs as to when they could pick up his new generous donation to their cause. _Bertha_ was going to be theirs again, after being fueled up and loaded with some better weapons and armor that the corsairs would need for boarding enemy ships. Coordinating when and where to exchange the ship took an hour or so, and when he was done he saw an incoming call on his encrypted office line. The girls must have figured out that he was going to be late coming home.

He keyed the connection, bringing it up on the main screen. The image that formed was of Julia, Miranda, and Nyra, their teacher. Nyra had an angry look on her face, and Julia and Miranda looked somewhat sheepish.

_"Mr. Harper. I found your children testing the speed limits of a vacuum drone a short while ago. They nearly ran over all of the people on the main concourse. Thankfully I was able to prevent disaster." _She looked at him disapprovingly. _"As their siara I expected better of you."_

Jack shrugged. "If they successfully hacked a vacuum and cleaning drone and reprogrammed it, then that is a great accomplishment. If they injured someone, tell them to call their lawyer. My daughters have a very strong litigation lawyer already, and he would welcome the work."

_"Mr. Harper, someone could have been injured from this! Are you congratulating your daughters for risking other people's lives?" _She looked back at the grinning daughters of his. _"You both are in trouble, you know."_

"Nyra, with the summer vacation starting in a few hours I don't think they will be in much trouble. Perhaps some added time to your lessons, perhaps. What were your plans for the break?"

She blinked, the marks on her face scrunching slightly. "_I was not prepared for any of this vacating that you humans are fond of. I suppose I will spend some time familiarizing myself with your language. My translator lacks some of the finer parts of your language."_

"Perhaps can I offer you a short reprieve? My girls usually go to my private island for a week or so in the start of the summer vacation, and I won't be back on Earth for another week at the earliest." That got dejected looks from his girls. "Would you be averse to spending the week with them, and giving them some extra lessons?"

This would keep the Asari from digging into anything unnecessary in the Solaris part of the station. A bored three hundred year old alien with commando training was not something he wanted prowling the station. Better directed towards his very intelligent and wayward children. Nyra looked back at him.

_"My job is teach all of the human biotics, not watch your children. I am not working directly for you, Mr. Harper."_

"On the contrary, you happen to be working for the Cerberus Foundation, of which the majority of the company is owned and run by myself. I can change the parameters of what it means to teach the biotic children of humanity at any time to suit the purposes of the Alliance. As such, you are working for me, Nyra. If you don't want to take care of the best and brightest biotic children, as Matriarch Benezia told me to send you to, then I can always have you switch places with one of your sisters. They would love to teach the Adept children rather than the Sentinels."

_"Mr. Harper, I was hired to teach children."_

"You will. But if you want to keep teaching, most of them are getting off of the base for the week anyways. Going with my children means that you'll have a free pass to go see Earth. The others are restricted from going down there, and on the island you can try any and all food that you are interested in. So long as my girls are getting some time off station and some biotic training, consider it a nice break for yourself." Jack offered. "I have already prepared everything for anyone who comes to visit." She looked to be about the right size. If not, she was an Asari. They were mono-gendered, and their culture was extremely accepting of diversity. This actually was partially contributing to a rise in hatred against their pure blood relatives.

_"Mr. Harper, if you need me to go that badly, then I will. But I will try to make sure that this doesn't give your daughters an unfair advantage."_ Nyra said, looking back at them and then returning to looking at Jack. _"When do you arrive at Earth?"_

"As soon as I can transfer ownership of a ship to another party. Once it goes through and we drop that off, then I will return. Though if there is trouble feel free to call on my encrypted line. My daughters know the code. They also will do their best to mind what you say and listen to you. As their chaperone you have the right to tell them what to do, but please listen to them, in return. They will keep you from making any serious mistakes in the crowded cultural icon that is Earth." Jack looked down at his Omni-tool, which was beeping. Amandeep and James were trying to get a hold of him. "You girls have fun. I have to go deal with a few things, but I will call you tonight." He waited for his daughters to say their goodbyes, noting that Miranda looked excited. Then he ended the call.

He found James in the control room with Amandeep, discussing the angle they would need to approach the Reaper to take its main leg. It was slightly bent, and damaged from whatever had brought it down in the first place. Hopefully not enough to compromise the technology, but Jack was pretty sure that it would be workable. Reaper technology was very hardy, and meant to be strengthened beyond normal means through the use of nanites. Some Reaper artifacts had been found that had been on planets long enough to be inside of rock formations, suggesting that the nanites survived through near about anything. Shepard proved that explosives worked. Jack always had some of sufficient strength somewhere nearby.

"Is something not working?" He asked. James didn't react when he walked in, slowly moving the ship towards the main arm.

"No, just trying to get things to work. That main weapon is massive, sir. Too massive to try to cut it off at the connection point. Even if we could get it all inside of here, the mega-hauler is fifty meters too short to reach the point where we can cut off that arm."

"Could we just cover it with a tarp and hang it out the back?" Hannah asked. "The tow cables could hold it inside easily enough."

Reapers were interesting spacecraft/creatures. In their arms they had troop deployment pods in the upper sections and in the lower sections of the arm were their weapons platforms. Technically all they needed to take was the frontal portion of the arm, but the hull of the Reaper would need to be damaged already for the hangar bay doors to apply enough pressure to tear it off.

"We don't want to make it seem as if we are smuggling an entire cruiser back here. That would get searches, questions, and scrutiny that even my system of favors couldn't avoid. We need to rip it off somehow."

Amandeep started doing some calculations on his console. "We can tear it off Sah! If we wrap the to' cables through this upper section, we can make the arm bend until it snaps. It will take us a very long time, if the information here is correct. The Prothean hull is strong." One way to put it.

Amandeep had a great plan. It took Hannah and Jack in the _Talon_ and James and Amandeep on the tow cables to attach all eight of them to the Reaper. Two of the cables were wrapped around the main arm by the _Talon_, while _Bertha_ attached the other six to other secure points on the Reaper, to hold it still while they used the other two cables to tear off the arm. The cables were wrapped around the arm, and then crossed over the Reaper's body to use the long humped back as a counterweight. This took nearly eight hours to do, just with the four of them. It was agreed to take four hours to sleep and eat, and then get back to this.

Amandeep was sweating as he tried to pry off a Reaper's arm. Jack was unconcerned, since this was only one of many Reapers. Getting their technology wasn't the hard part. It was disabling the nanites that caused Indoctrination that he needed to deal with. Reapers were infested with the things, which he found rather annoying. He had lost a lot of teams to that while he was misleading Cerberus.

When the tow cables started pulling, Jack thought it would be only a few minutes before they would have a Reaper main weapon in their hands. Eighteen hours later, they had to add the _Talon_ to the operation, to get enough torque to tear off the Reaper's arm. It was honestly one of his worst days ever. Nothing to do but watch as the cables didn't move, and the only meaningful things he picked up were a detailed understanding of how to cuss out a machine in Urdu. Amandeep was a highly expressive man, apparently. Hopefully his girls were enjoying their summer vacation.

Julia grinned as Nyra came back out of the beach house. She had originally came with them in an entire suit of armor, and half a dozen weapons that she wouldn't let her touch. Daddy taught them about gun safety when they were six years old, when Miranda found a pistol under their floor. They knew not to touch guns, at least not without permission. Nyra didn't understand how beaches and beach houses worked.

You could sleep in hammocks, order any drink that you wanted, and be out in the shade or sun for as long as you wanted. Daddy had a tidal pool attached to his island that they could swim in, even though it was in the middle of the ocean. If they wanted to go snorkeling, they could. He even had a movie theatre built into his island, and they could watch anything they wanted. It was what they lived for.

It took some convincing to get Nyra to calm down and get comfortable. Though when they asked her to go swimming with them, she thought that meant that clothes weren't necessary. Explaining how things worked on Earth took more time, leading to their current situation.

"I fail to see how this cloth does anything worthwhile or change anything." Nyra said. Miranda had found her a swimsuit, of course from the room Daddy reserved for his women. Though Auntie Hannah didn't seem like the other women. She was pretty, yes, but not as pretty as the women that Daddy met with all of the time. Daddy had a stock of things for those kinds of women here. Miranda had given her something red to match her purplish skin tone.

"We are on Earth. People have to wear clothes." Julia explained. Asari must be different in how they do things.

"I find things rather odd here." Nyra said. "As well the fact that there are only two staff members here." Nyra had a pistol slipped into her waistline, a really big one. She wouldn't budge on that. She would go armed. If not armored, at least.

"Usually there are a few more people here." Julia said. "Daddy has at least one man always in the security room. Then there is always the guy who gets you drinks! He is nice."

Nyra looked at the pristine beach. "Let's go see this security room, I am rather curious." Julia nodded, leading Nyra up the patio to the upper decks. The upper decks had the shuttle pad, security station, and gym. Julia and Miranda never really had any reason to go up there, but Daddy had showed them every room on the island. She confidently showed Nyra where the door to the security room was.

Nyra reached for the handle, and was surprised to find it locked. "Is this normal?"

"No." Julia said, bringing out out her Omni-tool. She punched in her security code, waiting for the door to unlock. It didn't. "My code is supposed to get me into any door anywhere!"

Nyra nodded. She started glowing blue, and her arm threw out towards the wall next to the door. Gravity and force crumpled the wall, and the steel layers underneath were revealed. She grunted. "Your father has some obsession over this. Think the roof might be easier?"

Julia shook her head. "No. You have to go down the stairs behind that door. Daddy said that our codes worked."

Nyra took a long look at the wall she had warped. "Let's go find Miranda. She might know something." Then she drew her pistol and checked the heat sink. That was a bit worrying. Nyra walked over to the railing, and leaned slightly forward. "Julia, I want you to hide. Right now." She started glowing again. "I promise to teach you both how to do this later."

Then Nyra _moved_. Her body leaned forward and shifted into a bluish burst, and Julia had to run over to the railing to see her alien form streak like a missile into one of the attendants on the beach. Julia was about to cry out when she saw a big shotgun or rifle fall from the man's hands. The attendants here weren't supposed to be armed. She looked further up the beach, where Miranda was playing in the sand. One of the other attendants was approaching her, with a pistol in hand. Nyra shot that one, before he could get his gun up. Miranda saw this and started screaming, backing away from the bleeding man.

Behind her, she heard the security door open, and three men started running out of it. They all had armor and rifles. That was when she realized she was supposed to hide. She jumped over the railing, hopping onto the awning that reached over the juice bar. She held her hands over her mouth.

"Nyra, three more bad men over here!" She yelled, getting the Asari's attention. She turned slowly, and took Miranda by the hand. She was still glowing blue as she led Miranda behind one of the walls near the beach, and when Julia saw Nyra stand back up, it was without her sister.

The armored men all took aim at Nyra from the railing, but their shots only hit some sort of blue wall that was between Nyra's skin and the bullets. It looked like some sort of biotic power, but it was protecting her. Nyra gave a smart looking grin and did another huge leap, her body crashing into the leftmost man. He flew back and hit something really hard, making the awning shake. The other two tried to target Nyra, but she got in close and started glowing brighter as she started punching the armored men. It looked like it wouldn't do much, until Julia saw her hand go right through one of the armors. Wow.

Biotics were awesome! If Nyra was going to teach them stuff like this, Julia wasn't going to ever try to accidentally run her over ever again! She climbed up the awning back towards the railing, one to see the last of the armored men getting shot. Daddy had showed them movies and pictures where people had been shot, but the bits of red that came off of him were something she hadn't seen before.

Nyra just stood up from the men, and then moved towards the security door. "Stay there. Tell Miranda to get up here."

Miranda was already in motion, running up the stairs from the beach. She wasn't looking at Julia, though. She was looking for Nyra.

"Did you see that?" Miri said excitedly. "She flew!"

"I know! She did it twice!" Julia said, climbing over the railing. Miri was jumping around the upper deck, until she saw the men on the ground. Then she started screaming. There was a lot of blood. Miranda was not a fan of some of the scary movies that Julia loved. Julia laughed at her for that, freaking out over a little blood. She had seen more in the vids.

"Both of you get away from them!" Nyra said, coming out of the security room. Her right arm was covered in red blood, and she looked unhurt. "They took the shuttle. Is there anything else that we can use to get out of here?"

Julia didn't know and she shrugged. Looking at Miri, she obviously didn't know either. "Daddy never said anything about this."

Nyra sighed heavily. "Well, they are here to capture the two of you. Which means that they are trying to hurt your father." She took them by the hand and started moving towards the part of the island that had the bedrooms. When she got there, she stopped the both of them with one of her hands. "Wait here. I think they took my things."

She glowed again, and a bubble formed around them. Then, she threw out her arm and a ball of energy flew into the door, knocking it inwards. A spark came from inside the room, and Julia closed her eyes as that expanded into a much brighter light. When she opened her eyes, she could see everything on fire. It was also spreading to the walls. Nyra started pushing them back, heading outside.

Miranda was being quiet, when Julia expected her to start screaming. But she didn't instead staring at the glowing blue bubble keeping the heat and fire back from them. They didn't need to be told to back away this time. The fire caught easily on the wood panelled walls, and Nyra ran with them back towards the upper deck.

"We need another way off this island!" Nyra said, looking around for the shuttle. It was gone, taken by whoever flew off earlier. Julia shuddered. They were stuck here.

"We need to call Daddy!" She yelled, looking at all of the roofs catching fire. Nyra nodded, moving them to the beach.

"There isn't much to burn on this island. As long as we stay in the water, we can wait it out. Your Omni-tools are on the porch. Let's get them and get in the water."

Nyra grabbed one of the rifles from the dead men and moved with them to the porch, where they had ditched their Omni-tools and backpacks. They were still there. Nyra grabbed them, keeping her guns out. Once they had them in hand, they got out onto the artificial beach. The water was cool, and a welcome feeling after being close to the fire. Smoke was pouring from the center of their island, and the buildings were on fire.

Miranda was just staying behind Nyra, and Julia was just staring.

Her Omni-tool had never dialed a number so fast in her life. Daddy's connection wasn't strong, but he got the message.

"Julia, what is it? I told you I wouldn't be home for a few more days." His connection wasn't clear enough to see what he was standing behind, but she could see some sort of big hangar bay.

"Daddy! People tried to take us!" She felt a hand on her shoulder, seeing Nyra leaning over her.

"Mr. Harper, I'll give it to you simple. Your island is on fire, the shuttle is gone, and we are out in the open if they choose to send more people. Your daughters were targeted by humans who had military grade weapons and armor. I killed them, but they took the shuttle and destroyed my armor and weapons."

Jack Harper's face on screen visibly grimaced. "Normally I would make a snide comment that your current look suits you. Today I am going to explain very carefully what you will do. Underneath the second layer of the island, there is a secondary control room. You'll need to uncover the access hatch, underneath the large anchor in the middle of the beach. It weighs one and a half tons, in human measurement. So around half a _Tso_." Nyra nodded at this. "That control room can control the island's secondary controls, and allow it to dive. It will take a submarine to get to you then, and those are few in number that have boarding attachments. That will protect you until I get back to Earth. I will be there in nineteen hours. Survive that long, and I'll be there."

Nyra gave him a long look. "You don't strike me as capable of destroying anyone, Mr. Harper. How will you be able to save us when we get back?"

"Girls, your Auntie Hannah and I are coming. Listen to Nyra, and stay safe and warm. It's a little cold in the under sections of the island. Nyra, there are automated turrets that can be activated from the main server down there. Please be gentle on that equipment. Don't worry about me, I'm coming." He cut the connection, and Julia felt a lot better. Daddy said he was coming. He parked a shuttle illegally at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre in London for them. He would come.

Nyra started glowing again, and the large metal hook thing on the beach got pulled into the ocean. Miri giggled. Julia didn't know what to think.

"Yes, Miranda, I can at least teach you how to do that." Nyra stated, predicting what she was thinking. "Now, both of you into the tunnel here. We have a long time before your father gets here."

Meet Nyra, Asari Commando and in the service to the T'Soni family. She will be the biotic teacher for the kids in the Adept classes. Speaking of the Human Biotics, I have a few things to say. In canon, the first generation of biotics were those first exposed to Element Zero and injured by it. The females passed it on to their children, and the males developed tumors or cancerous growths and had a shorter lifespan in most cases.

The second generation of biotics in canon were those sent to Biotic Acclimation and Training, or BAaT(Brain Camp). Cerberus was involved with that. But only because they saw Vyrrnus and the other teachers as a threat to society. The third generation of biotics in canon were the L3's and L5's, where Miranda and Subject Zero(Jack) came from. That generation is still considered to be current in 2183.

For Jack Harper and his new Cerberus, he decided to make sure that the disastrous L2 Generation of biotics were treated better and received better training. Thus, the Solaris Program. I hope that makes sense to you all. But realistically, Humanity won't be able to have their own teachers until the L2's are old enough to teach. That is near around ten years, and so for that ten years, these biotics will need someone to teach them. A single decade isn't much in the lifetime of an Asari. Hiring three is much more sensible than hiring a Turian for political happiness. But don't think that Jack is getting off scot free. All of his actions are gaining coverage and attention, and making him a target. More on that as time goes on.


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note

Surprise Friday update! I got pretty far ahead and felt that I could release this early. My beta got a day off work and feverishly read and corrected a bunch of my work. Life is going well, as I am working full time and am a full time student. Apparently the busier I am the better I do. So, I am going to close the poll to decide the background of Julia in a couple chapters, but in the meantime, let's see how everyone fares. Thanks for reading and as always, thanks for the reviews.

Chapter 13

May 2164, Hades Gamma System,

Jack Harper ended the call on his Omni-tool, and took a deep breath. Everything that he had done, everyone that he had changed their previous fate, all of that was so that Julia could save them from the Reapers. If she was taken now, that would all be for naught.

"James. If I and Hannah left, could you still do the operation?"

"No. Normally, I would say that we couldn't do this without at least a team of fifty people. Six on each rappel line, but we could do it with four. The Operating system on this is in Batarian, so that takes some getting used to. Then we need a team just to keep an eye on what we are pulling in here, so, No, Sir. This isn't going to work. I've been trying to line this up for hours, but I can't compensate for everything that the rest of a crew would do for me."

Jack sighed. Stealing a Reaper wasn't going to be easy. "I appreciate your honesty. We can come back and get this later, with a few more people that we can trust. In the meantime, let's wrap up the operation. Tie this dreadnought back onto the hauler, and set it into a hard rotation. Until the command is given from one of us, keep this rotating too hard for anyone to board it. That might mean we have to transport some more fuel out here, but that is alright so long as it remains unharmed. If something touches this, I want the emergency coordinates to be set for the sun of Anteius. If we can't have it, then nobody will. Since this is still technically registered to the Batarians, they will feel the heat from losing a Prothean Dreadnought."

"So, I remotely got the _Talon_ warmed up. Pre flight will be done before all of our gear is loaded. Back to your island, I assume?"

Jack shook his head. "No. Tartarus. The Reds have wanted to secure their own biotics for years. Julia and Miranda are well protected enough two hundred feet under water. The other children are all on vacation, and the Reds will be trying to take a few for their own biotic programs." Most likely with bastardized Batarian technology. For such a barbaric society their lobotomy technology is rather good. Apparently that helps with installing biotic amps. The Reds would be willing enough to trade people for that technology, meaning that Jack had to act quickly if he wanted Tartarus, Solaris, and Cerberus to be spared. Typical that all of this would happen when he is away dealing with a much larger threat.

"They would openly attack Cerberus?" Hannah asked, a bit confused.

"No, they would have a coordinated strike against many of the biotic children. Kill the parents, cause accidents, send the kids into state programs where they can disappear easily. We are looking at someone who is somewhere in the government, at the very least. They had to have people on the inside to pull an attack like this off. Not to mention taking over my island without any of my sensors or warnings going off."

"You said yourself a while back that you are a rather enviable target. If anyone was going to attack you, would it really be the Reds?"

"Could be a number of people. A couple of members of the Naval board would love to knock me down, the Reds would enjoy biotics, and for certain the mercenaries and possibly the Collectors might be on the list as well. Not as the people who actually attacked, but the ones who get the kids in the end. Human biotics are rare, and we could be looking at a possible extinction event for our program if too many disappear." He would still fund it, as Miranda and Julia needed to have the backing of the Alliance when the time came.

As he explained this, they were getting back to the _Talon_. He was in a near fast walk, knowing it would not help to have a few extra seconds but it felt alright. His daughters were being targeted. He was probably on the list. There was also a significant chance that the _Talon_ might come under fire. If they were prepared for that eventuality, of course.

Amandeep opened the doors for them, the starfield already spinning at a rapid rate. The thrusters would only get worse over the next ten minutes. HE strapped himself into the co-pilot's harness, Amandeep running for the engineering room, and Hannah settling on the couch in the back.

"Sir, we will be back at earth in nineteen hours, barring any trouble." James said, queuing in the FTL jump back to Anteius. That would only be an hour or so, as they had stopped the hauler near the system. Jack was on pins and needles, trying to plan out where the Reds would strike. They were out of range of most of the comm buoys that he could use safely, so he had to content himself with looking through the news feeds. Tracking over four hundred children was going to be impossible at this rate, but he would have some idea if a gruesome murder showed up somewhere. But that would only happen if someone screwed up somewhere.

He typed madly, looking up any news anywhere with the keywords of 'family', 'missing', and 'tragedy'. Most news these days didn't care about who was looking at their feeds so long as their feeds received looks and clicks. That was how the money was made in the small news business. Larger networks could do advertising fees and such, depend on longstanding followers, share political perspectives. Obviously corrupt on the higher levels, connected with their government entities.

Nothing much was coming up that involved the list of four hundred that he had to keep track of. That meant that the had to go by name. "Hannah, I have a search protocol already installed, but I need you to direct it." He sent it along with the list of families, associates, and biotic children. "The bottom half of that list of eight thousand names is yours. We need to find out everything about them and where they might have been travelling to or from."

She rolled her eyes, a pair of slippers on her bare feet as she propped them up on the sofa. "On it. Why is Henry on the list?"

"Because if there is anyone in the operation that has to be removed, it's Henry. Without him Cerberus won't be able to function. He is too careful to leave everything on the table in his dealings with us. Respectable, but right now it's a liability when he was working on something regarding medigel."

"Have you tried just calling him?" She asked, already plugging away at the list. "He might even pick up for you. You are his friend, after all."

"When he isn't spending money on Donovan Hock, yes." Jack said. Their political choices had differed more and more in recent years. Donovan Hock had filled Henry with thoughts of peace and pacifism. Absolutely worthless, considering that Hock had some sort of mercenary or criminal connection. South Africa had been in a period of supposed peace since he had stayed as their representative, but Jack only found signs of blood money. Nothing he could prove to anyone of note, and Hock was in a nearly untouchable position. His own country would never remove him, and without local support the only way was to find him convictable of crimes of an inhumane nature against sapient races.

"Hock is the peacenik, right?" Hannah asked, her fingers easily keeping up with him.

"If you consider a peacenik that can't be fully audited or blamed for some eezo exposure, sure. Hock is a wonderful person who encourages peace and privatization of our economy and security. At the same time, I can find out that the Reds have issues with his own personal security forces, which have been contracted out to numerous mines and colonies all over Alliance Space. So he is warlike on the side, and is using his stance of peace to improve his wealth. His end goals with that being unknown."

"You say the Reds don't like him?"

"He likes keeping the law. Avoids the drug trade, trafficking, the darker parts of the criminal side of things. I can respect that much, at least."

"Since you approve of revolutions when they suit your purposes." She said.

"If the shoe fits." He replied. There had been no easier way to get Shanxi fortified. If his plans had worked, Shanxi would have possibly held out against the Turians. The orbital defense satellites hadn't even been started, and the sensor buoy network wasn't complete. He wasn't going to apologize for that. Neither for the attack that killed her parents. That he would never admit, because he still had one more copy of the Catalyst to destroy. To do that, he needed to hit Thessia.

Not just any part of Thessia, mind you, but their High Temple of Athame, with three massive structures containing different Prothean and cultural artifacts, and he had to find out if any of those were Reaper artifacts as well. Guarded by a fleet that held five dreadnoughts and their support groups, it wasn't feasible with any military in the galaxy. The last time he was forced to go in unprepared, sending Kai Leng along with a Reaper invasion force. That was just unfortunate, since he could only target the beacon. All of the other Reaper artifacts that he had hoped to get his hands on were missed. So with little to no information on them, he would have to go in again somehow. The only Asari he was friends with was not allowed near the Athame Temples, being one of the leaders of the Siari movement. The Asari were not a warlike people, but this was one of the things that got them alarmed.

Which made him feel worried at the thought of her getting access to the Prothean Archive on Mars. She had made basic inquiries to certain documents and folders they had already translated and retrieved, but had looked for herself in some of the directories. Jack wasn't fluent enough in Prothean to understand it. Not that he had been in the last life either. Indoctrinated individuals were rarely allowed access. Protheans could at least detect it. They never did find a way to beat it, though.

Good thing Jack found a way. Or at least a theory of a way to undo Indoctrination. It would be a new level of difficult to be able to accomplish, but he felt it was within his reach. He just needed a few more capable people, perhaps a few more people from Cerberus. Henry he wanted to trust, but as long as Hock was around anything that he did with Henry or his support would get the notice of that outright criminal.

"Revolution was perhaps too harsh a word to describe what I was trying to do with Shanxi." Jack said. "Social reconstruction would have been better."

"With guns? That is sort of revolutionary."

"I wasn't the one who wanted to nuke the competition." Jack pointed out. "All of the men I hired, who coincidentally got blown to bits for their loyalty, wanted to do things the right way."

"Jack, we've got one student who was attacked. Jennifer Grosling." He shuddered. Biotic potential and a father with a history of disorderly conduct created a child that could only be dangerous. Subject Zero. Not someone he enjoyed sharing a name with in his memories.

"What happened?" He asked.

"She jumped into the Rhine river, hasn't turned up yet. They might have gotten her already." Hannah said, her fingers typing rapidly. "Working on it, but we won't get anywhere near her in time. Germany has one of the poorest police forces on Earth."

A child jumping into a river in Germany in the middle of winter was probably a bad idea. She might not survive to be rescued or captured if she jumped into the Rhine. At the age of eight or nine she would have to be fished out somehow before her body froze. Hopefully her kidnappers were more on top of this and Jack could simply stage a rescue mission later. That would be easier than trying to fix her up from hypothermia and resultant damages to the body.

He looked down at his own tool, where he found one sign of trouble. Charles Archer, along with Kaiden Alenko, both the best of the Sentinel class already, had gotten into a bit of trouble. Apparently they both disappeared somewhere in Disneyworld. Charles Archer and Kaiden Alenko both had their fathers left, but Charles' had a terminal cancer that would kill him eventually. Medical technology would only keep him going so long. Charles was fourteen, and when his father died he would be sucked into government ownership. His relatives didn't like association with biotics and element zero, which had taken Charles' mother and had given his father the tumors and cancer that ate away at his body.

Alenko, on the other hand, had a father in top physical condition. A military man that had gone on to play Soccer for some of the European Leagues. A sportsman of a father meant that Alenko had some fine genes and strong physical condition already before starting the Solaris program. One of the more promising boys in the bunch. He was sharp, one of the better people to become a Sentinel. Being an adept was more about instinct and emotional reactions than it was about applying your brain cells towards something. Vanguards had to take a bit more into consideration, but there were so few of the Adepts who had the capacity and control to become Vanguards.

Miranda was going to be one, for certain. He had designed the Phantom series of cybernetics and enhancements for lithe, dextrous skirmishers. Get in, get out, cause as much damage as possible. Line infantry were what the rest of Cerberus used, and there were so few biotics with enough potential to become adepts and were the right body type to do this. Effectively, the line would start with her. Subject Zero, Jennifer Gosling, might have had the same potential if her family wasn't known for blind rage. It had been recorded for a few of their generations, leaving him with the expectation that she would at least have violent tendencies, but possibly not the same level of psychotic rage. While it improved the strength of her biotics, it did so at the cost of her sanity and resistance to mental contamination.

Reduced sanity and psychotic tendencies made for cheap Indoctrination targets. He was sure that it took years of having his eye upgrades before the Indoctrination set in. Enough to risk possibly boarding a Reaper for its IFF. He knew what code combinations to execute and ask for, and the right place to go. It would just involve fighting through husks of dead races and goodness knows what would be at the center of the Reaper he was going after. Theoretically he could take it from this one, but it might have lost enough components that it would be impossible. He would need to get some mechs to go in first.

"We're coming up on Anteius!" James said, taking Jack out of his reverie. He was still multitasking with his list, and there was simply too much information that was unknown. Too many of the children were vacationing or not talking on social media, too many may have already been taken. "Sir, we've got a bit of a problem."

"What is it?" Jack actually looked up from his console feed. Just ahead of them, squatting in front of the relay, was the frigate that had seen the _Talon_ in the Dis system. It noticed them immediately.

"That's the _Yrth'ak_. Or something. It is scanning us for sure. Or at least trying to figure out where we jumped from."

"Please tell me they won't find my new source of technology?" Jack stated.

"I adjusted our course a few times before hitting the edge of the system. If they look for us they might run into the other systems first. If not, they might run into that singularity outside Dis. Either way, do you think they'll possibly attack us?"

Jack shook his head. "Threaten, maybe, but I don't think we can ever come back here in the _Talon_ again. It will be followed or tracked the moment we go anywhere. So, once we get back I'll have to start shopping for a new ship. This one we can sell to someone else. If I come back, I'll need to bring something armed. Or perhaps hire the Corsairs as escorts. Reds be damned, but I might need to just hire them to protect my investment."

"How much of the Corsairs are Reds?" Hannah asked.

"Can't confirm that. They might be recruiting from the program. So no clues there. Can't judge based on race, thanks to the confirmation that Jaime Algerlo is a Red, and might lead Brazil into that mess."

Hannah scoffed. "An interesting guess. Something like that normally goes into the news." Her eyebrow was not twitching or moving, one of her usual tells if she was lying. So she didn't know about him being a Red. Interesting that the Intelligence office would keep their agent in the dark.

"I don't want it released when he funds my Element Zero needs. The Solaris program is very important to everyone, even if half of my researchers are ready to sell the data out to multiple parties. Including the Shadow Broker." Hannah could understand that, as she nodded and went back to her console.

"Sir, the frigate is coming up closer and matching our speed. I'm a bit worried." James said, moving the _Talon_ on a course that didn't match the frigate. It matched them again. Being faster and better armed, it was going to catch up soon if they didn't do something.

"Turn about and make for the fuel depot. We can get there without much trouble and I know that there are Corsairs on that station." Jack could at least count on the Batarians to try not to board them on the station. But out in the traverse it was open to interpretation which laws were followed at what time. Their ship flew towards the fuel depot, but the frigate stayed out in the upper orbit of the gas giant. Jack made sure that their drive was discharged and the fuel depot was aware of them. The Batarian frigate wasn't going anywhere.

"We don't own the buoys out here, I can't trace their communications." He told Hannah. "They are probably calling in some friends."

"Everyone knows Batarians don't have friends. Friends are allowed to speak their mind." She replied. "Assume they are bringing friends. What is the worst they could do?"

A lot. "At least five hundred soldiers, all slave legion trained and not afraid of dying or being exposed to vacuum. That is what I can expect on their dreadnought, if they bring it in. More likely than not they will send in a cruiser or troop ship, possibly special forces. If they have any in system, that is. The Kite's Nest is only a few hours away, and Kar'Sharn is another eight beyond that. Realistically, if they Batarians sent some of their Special Investigations units, it would only be five or six hours away. That only if they anticipated a real threat."

"What kind of options do we have for getting us past this?"

Jack shrugged. "Avoid notice and try another run at the relay when Alliance ships come through, which is unlikely. Corsairs try to avoid major trade lanes, so we can't count on them. Turian ships will be armed but not looking for a fight. James, find out what ships are refueling here and tell me if any of them are Volus or Asari owned. The Batarian frigate will most likely try to avoid them. Volus are protected by the Turians, and they will answer to that kind of threat if the Volus are attacked."

James nodded, heading for the airlock. Then he looked at Hannah. "Batarian forces are already on station. Otherwise they would have dropped some off. Scrub the ship for any data that we need to keep, and I will handle the rest. I have a lot here that needs to be shipped and stored before we completely abandon ship."

"Always so practical. Don't forget my bag. I hate buying new clothes. Never have much time between missions for them." Hannah said, sitting at the consoles and typing fast. "Are you going to let Nyra know that you'll be late?"

Jack did turn at that. "No. I'll just have to call in a favor with someone I very much don't like." With that, he started walking upstairs to his closet. Clothes with kinetic barriers that were up to date were expensive. Spare Omni-tools, hacking probes, and his guns were another large source of weight.

_Amandeep,_

_ We are going to have to abandon the Talon right now. James is going to find us a ride, and we are going to leave the station as passengers. Pack whatever tools are critical and important, and a gun. Being armed in the Traverse is expected. Get something suitably terrifying, such as the Harpoon rifle and the Wasp SMG. We have a few minutes before we have to leave. _

With that message sent, he grabbed his bag and filled it with all of the things he needed. Getting it through security would be a serious pain. He had guns that were obviously designed to kill Turians, guns designed to just kill Batarians, and so on. None of them conformed to Council Law, since he needed something that could kill in one shot, no questions asked. He wasn't a soldier, he was somewhat of a gunman. A very refined one, at least. After all of the illegal and questionable things went in, he packed all of his favorite shirts, a few shoes he didn't want to lose, and of course his slippers. He could always buy more comfort clothing, but the real Earth hand-sewn suits he needed to save. His bag bulged with everything in just a few trips. The rest he would just have to ship with the more risky Corsairs.

He slipped back to the room he had Hannah use, since she liked having the largest closet on ship. Her bag was slightly larger than his own, and looked half empty. He opened it, finding only sweats and a few pairs of t shirts, comfort clothing. He scoffed, dumping all of it out. That was easy to replace. This closet here was full of clothing meant to make any model feel jealous. Typically a reason that he managed to keep partners for longer than a night or two. He stuffed her bag full of the most expensive of things that were in the closet, knowing it would probably fit Hannah. Call it selfish, but he was saving thousands of credits in exchange for a few hundred credits worth of sweats and exercise gear. She might be a bit angry, but he had a few things on this ship that were of great worth. He brought out one of the oldest packages near the back of the closet and slipped that in as well. That piece was nearly priceless, an original Hugh Hefner outfit.

Hannah's bag was full, so he just tied her other shoes to the sides. He may have kept her toiletries, at least. Everything else was expensive clothing that he didn't want to have to buy again. Hannah would be wearing her catsuit for the rest of this trip, he assumed. He also slipped her shotgun into the outside holster, where it would be in plain sight. Intimidation was important here.

With bags in hand, he came downstairs to find the ship on full lockdown. All of the consoles were locked, and the language had been changed over to basic Latin for the consoles. Jack smirked. Batarians hated using any human technology or software. Finding anything here would be torture for them.

He walked into the cockpit, finding Hannah finishing something at the console. "Ready here. Set the codes so that only when someone gives administrative codes can the ship be unlocked. The core is on a different system, and I had Amandeep lock it with one of the audio locks for unlocking the engineering console. Unless they flash the system and start over, they'll need 'Hot Urdu Love Song Mix 12' or whatever Amandeep calls his music to unlock that."

Jack smiled. Now that was something nice. It guaranteed the _Talon_ wouldn't be just picked up and flown away. It could still be towed out of here, and that wasn't an impossibility. When James finally showed up onboard again, Jack had the bags ready and was picking his last wine bottle to go with them.

"The fuel depot here in Anteius has a few ships coming in. Only two are here, a Batarian tradeship, and a Turian courier. Strangely the tradeship is actually being run by an Asari. Or an Asari that bought a Batarian ship. Either way, it didn't translate well."

Jack nodded, and walked over to one of the walls. He keyed a code into the thermostat, making a wall safe appear. Inside were some old looking datapads, contained within clear plastic sealed boxes. "This will convince any Asari to take us anywhere." He said, bringing out the boxes. "Lead the way, James, and bring the bags. Heft that rifle like you actually are accurate with it."

"Are we just leaving her?" He asked, looking around.

"For now. Right now it makes us a target. We need something stealthy and more reliable. If an Asari owns that tradeship, they'll take us anywhere once I tell them about this."

"What does an Asari care for an old datapad?" Hannah asked, walking in front.

"This belonged to one of their first explorers, a Mistress Dil'naga. I was originally going to use it to become the first human to convert to Athame and be allowed inside their high temple, but I can hopefully find more." He remembered where a few more old pieces of writing were, thanks to Shepard hunting down Saren and running into a couple. Easy pickings and easy credits. "Think a copy of the writings of some affiliate of Christ. Christians will throw money at it no matter what. If I had a few more of those datapads I could sleep with any Asari I wanted simply due to their presence."

"Jack! Not important."

"They like women better, you're right." He said, grinning. "James, what was the tradeship called?"

"The awhoolioohah?" James said, reading the name off of his Omni-tool.

"Summer Wind?" Jack said. "Promising." He walked to its berth, using the least travelled hallway. He turned on an ECM generator, throwing off cameras and other sources of detection as they travelled. It caused Amandeep to start cursing, as his Omni-tool was being interfered with. James had one of the best and was keyed to work anywhere, while Hannah's was simply shielded. Hers had to be. The hallways were tight, and laser motion detectors were more efficient than cameras here. His ECM was good enough for that.

The _Summer Wind_ was a long cargo ship, of Batarian make. Blocky and squat, the ship could haul a lot of materials but was not something fine to look at. Scratched and scorched in a few places, the ship had some character. He walked up to the entrance to the ship and notified the people onboard that he wished to see them. Most sentients didn't like people near their ship to begin with, and seeing Jack would likely send them into fits. Looking back, he could see that Hannah was cloaked over in the corner, and Amandeep and James were over by the door they had come out of.

An Asari came over to the cockpit. He could see her through the glass, but not enough to shoot her out of it. The glass was most likely tough enough to withstand such a strike anyways, and that wasn't Jack's primary plan.

"_What do you want?"_ She carefully asked, the ship activating its barriers. She had a small turret underneath the nose of the ship that activated, turning to face him.

"I would like to commission your ship as a passenger vessel. Get us to the other side of the Anteius relay, and we can pay you fifteen thousand credits for taking the three of us."

"_You sound rather desperate. You sound like trouble. Why should we help you, human?"_

"Because I am willing to pay you for the trouble, and you can make enough from this one trip to supply you for anything."

"_Not interested. Go find a different ship."_

"Perhaps you would be willing to do this for more than just money?"

"_None of your pelvic sorcery will work here, Human. Your reputation for that is as thick as ours."_ Hannah was probably laughing at his expense.

"How about Cultural artifacts? I happen to have just come from a Prothean dig site, and have plenty of wares that I might be willing to part with in exchange."

The Asari stopped looking at him for a moment. She stepped back from the glass. When he next saw motion, the door of the ship opened. He was facing what must have been the largest light machine gun he had seen so far, and a large Krogan standing behind it.

"No joking business!" The Krogan growled, the translation software making his words come out not as clearly as Jack would have preferred. But the message was clear. Don't try anything or else the Krogan will.

"None intended." Jack replied. He could see the Krogan looking rather confused, trying to understand what he had said.

When three Asari walked up behind the Krogan with heavy assault rifles in plain view, Jack raised an eyebrow. Eclipse Mercenaries, all of them. "Where were you trying to get to?" One of them wasn't wearing a helmet, and had a single green triangle on one cheek. She was the one who addressed him.

"Earth, as fast as possible." Jack said. "I can offer money or artifacts in return for paying you."

"Not on our route, Human." The Asari said. "We are headed for Omega after this." Probably a lie. Mercenaries commonly went to Omega but normally only went when necessary.

"What about for one of Matriarch Dil'Naga's datapads?" The Asari didn't react to that. They were used to people making big claims. So he held out the box that held the datapad. One of the backup Asari took it, holding it up.

"Foolish of you to give us your little datapad." She said. "I think I'll just take it and see how much its actually worth."

"Did you know that plastic explosive can be made into the shape of box? Made thin enough to mimic any synthetic material?" Jack asked candidly. "That box you're holding has enough explosive to take out the front half of your ship."

"Well, that sounds rather unhealthy for you to attempt. If you do, our friend here will blow you away before you could ever hit the button." She said, holding the box loosely.

"It's a dead man's switch. It is what we humans call a heart monitor. If my heart rate rises too high or drops too low, then the bomb goes off. If you kill me or try to throw any biotics at me, the bomb goes off. Consider this a gentleman's way of keeping things civil."

Some words might not have translated for the Krogan, but he got the gist when he realized that anything he did caused an explosion. His hands dropped from the gun, no longer gripping the trigger with tautness.

"Daring, if not foolish, then. Suppose we take you to Earth. Will you betray us once we are back in your area of space? Or will you simply walk away without paying us?"

"I could pay you right now, if I could trust you not to kill me and my men." Jack said, "Or I could call Jona Sideris and ask more politely, but time is of the essence."

That got the green-marked one to blanch. "You would have called her first if you had that number."

"I would have called her first if I realized that I was talking to an Eclipse Sister. I happen to be on fair terms with most Asari, unlike my previous experience with Turians." Jack said, letting her get a feel for him. "You get us past Arcturus, I'll give you the writings of Dil'Naga and you can go your merry way. We will take a shuttle the rest of the way."

"How much are you carrying, Human?" She asked carefully.

"These bags and as much alcohol as I can carry." He proudly said. "My last crewmember will be here soon with her things, and it will only be us four travelling. Your services are probably expensive and outrageous, but right now I require them."

"We are Eclipse. Expect the best. Blood Pack _avars_ can go screw themselves. We take pride in our work." the green marked one said. "My name is Nissa. I'll handle anything you need. I hope you brought your own food and water. It's a premium out here."

"I think we will get along just fine. Hannah, it's time to go." He called, seeing her slip out from behind one of the landing gear. She was holding a shotgun, one of those Asari models she loved. He turned his gaze back to Nissa. "I hope you have a room we can borrow for the trip." He reached into his bag, and held up a bottle of something he grabbed from the bar. It was expensive and had a German label, one of his lighter brands to part with. "This happens to be a rare wine from Earth that most Asari find nice. Consider it payment for a room."

The Asari shrugged. "You better hope it's strong, then. I've tasted Krogan beer and I hope you humans can measure up." She took the bottle, waving to one of her minions to lead them somewhere. The rooms onboard were small, but had enough space for what they needed. Hannah was given a nicer cubicle space, separate from the space they had been given to sleep in.

Hannah discovered his meddling soon enough with her bag, but didn't say anything. She simply didn't address him at all the entire time they spent on the ship. She did keep working on trying to find the children, and they had some promising returns. Most of the children were active on social media, or had trackers in their phones that Jack could access once they got back to Alliance space. He could see a lot of them still active, or some forgotten back on Luna.

Others were all over Alliance space, visiting family and friends. He couldn't confirm this, as there was just too many that were quiet, or enjoying their vacation somewhere quiet and lacking in technology. Many of the surviving parents of the children were men, which meant a larger than normal amount of them wanting to go out on long fishing and camping trips.

Too many unknowns existed for him to assume anyone had been taken. If anything, he was paying close attention to those that were in the Adept classes. If they were only after the most promising, then he would be under threat. He knew they had tried for Jennifer Gosling and his daughters, but any of the others he hadn't heard about. Or they had been taken without any signs of difficulty. That was what he was focusing on, leaving most of the Sentinels for Hannah to find.

The Eclipse made it past Arcturus without any trouble, and were able to park at Luna, where he could finally get to a secure server and check things out. No word had come from Nyra, yet, which was worrisome. His daughters were in his most secure location on Earth, since Tartarus station was on the moon. Even that wasn't actually too secure, due to the amount of people on board that he couldn't police. Theoretically the Reds and other politcal groups with an agenda all had fingers in Cerberus. That was the cost of being a public group instead of a paramilitary separatist organization. Though it paid to actually run something rather than be Indoctrinated by giant machines from beyond the edge of the galaxy.

Nissa came into their compartment after twelve hours. "We are coming up on your system, Harper. It'll be another fifteen thousand credits to pay for us to let you go." She sneered. Dealing with mercenaries was mostly a matter of greed, and anticipating what they wanted.

"Ten thousand, and I'll keep your number for any future jobs that I might need done in the traverse. You'll get plenty for the writings of Matriarch Dil'naga. If you sell to the right people, perhaps more than I would. I am only human, after all."

She held out her hand, which Jack didn't take. Risk of her using Asari bonding abilities to read his mind for information. Since he had never actually bonded with an Asari, he had no idea if they were capable of taking such information. Suffice to say he didn't like the idea of something taking that from him. So he withheld his hand from her, just to keep that from happening.

"I thought shaking hands was something you humans did to agree to something." Nissa said with some degree of hostility.

"Only on the second date, I think. First date I try not to get killed."

Nissa looked at him quizzically. "What is a date?"

Jack just laughed. "Ask a VI. I don't get paid to be a translator." Complete lie. He invented the translator, and was just being selfish about his time.

When they left the ship, they could see a few Alliance marines looking it over warily. Batarian made ships didn't often make it this deep into Alliance space. They looked like they were about to do a very intensive ship search. Jack was nearly off the ramp when a meaty paw landed on his shoulder.

"Human!" The Krogan that had been onboard the ship was right behind him, and nearly bowled him over. The arm had to weigh as much as his torso.

"Yes?" He said, brushing the arm off of his shoulder with most of the strength he could muster.

"My contract fixing this ship is over. _Krch'l_ told me I wasn't getting any of the cut any more. Since you gave them enough to buy something else, apparently my fixing job wasn't worth keeping. Since you cost me my job, you better hope you can find me a new one!" The Krogan bellowed, apparently angry.

Jack considered this for a few seconds. "I don't need a tough. What are you good at?"

"I am Gatatog _Grkkitm_." His name sounded like nails had to be chewed to pronounce it right. "I am of the Shipbuilder line of Gatatog, and am the best at what I do." He said proudly. Jack, even though he knew that was quite the statement, had to play as the ignorant human.

"What exactly does that mean? Krogan are not something I have spent much time getting to know."

His chest swelled up, making Hannah reach for her gun. "I can repair any ship you have, no matter how old. I have repaired ships upwards of four hundred years old, and my eyes have seen the wrecks of our days of war, where fear of us held the rest of the Galaxy at bay. I am a shipbuilder. That means that in terms of clans, I am always considered a valuable asset. If I manage to breed, that is." The end made him puff his chest out less, but he seemed very blunt for a mechanic.

"How about trying to help with a Prothean ship?" He asked.

"Sure. Haven't tried to touch anything like that yet. I am familiar with your human ships, Batarian ones, and Quarian ships. Those are a bit tougher. Their wiring systems are in spaces I can't fit my hands in too well. I have a drone for that, though." A Krogan Engineer. Well, it would be unfortunate for their race to lose such a gem of information, and they might need him in the future.

"Sounds fair. I'll take you. I might need you for some help with a few ships that we have reacquired from the Batarian Pirates. In the meantime, though, I have some cleaning house that your services might be helpful to have. Until we go after the old ships, do you mind a little bit of intimidation work? Some possible combat may follow."

The Krogan's shoulders shifted. "Your puny weapons don't get through my armor anyways, so that sounds fine. What's the pay?" He asked, bringing up his Omni-tool. Behind them, the old Batarian cargo ship lifted off and blasted out of the station rather rudely. He might call them if he was desperate. Or just to double cross them and take back those writings.

"I'll pay five hundred credits an hour, whether you are holding a gun or fixing a ship. For now, though, we are going to go back to Earth and investigating a few disappearances. I support a program that trains human biotics. The only one that trains human biotics. Someone is trying to take some of the kids."

"They're children?" The Krogan asked slowly. "You would trust me with children?"

"Children are the most valuable thing in any culture, correct?" He waited for the Gatatog to slowly nod. "Then I hope you understand how serious it is when the first generation of human biotics are being targeted."

"_Krchl." _He growled. "Consider it done. I'll help you get them back. Just tell me where we are going."

James predictably had a shuttle ready for them. It was meant for speed and comfort. "Hop in," He offered to the Krogan. "and then maybe you can teach me how to actually pronounce your name."

That was returned with a laughing grunt. But in Jack's mind, he was ready to kill this Krogan at any time. He even had a weapon specifically designed to do that. It was using rounds covered with Turian blood and fecal matter, designed to poison and asphyxiate the target. So long as he didn't shoot himself, he would be fine. Hannah was carrying her bag onto the shuttle, and slid it under her seat, getting comfortable.

He sat down across from her, and noticed that her bag had been opened. "Find anything to your liking, Hannah?"

She actually grinned. "Yes, actually. I found something that had a certificate of authenticity, if you'll even believe that." The Krogan didn't have any idea of what they were talking about, and sat down in the back of the shuttle, busying himself with the consoles there. Apparently he found things to his liking, as Jack could hear grunts of approval coming from his mouth.

Jack knew exactly what she was talking about. "Hannah, I was trying to save all of the pieces in that closet that couldn't be easily replaced. The one you are mentioning is an original, more than 200 years old. Priceless, one of eight remaining pieces."

Hannah settled into her seat. "Well, since it was all in my bag, I suppose it belongs to me now."

"I was trying to save the most important things I own. I hope you are not insinuating that you are going to steal something of mine…"

Hannah just reached up to the neck of her catsuit and started pulling on the zipper. She slowly pulled it down, until he could clearly see the top of a signature original bunny suit. She at least made it look good. She left the catsuit unzipped to her cleavage, daring him to do anything about it. "I think I'll be keeping this. You won't be getting this one back, since you so callously dumped out all of my other clothes."

"Oh, you'll return it. When I prove that something on the Citadel killed the Protheans, that's what you'll be wearing when you come to my bed. Plus, you fill it out well." She frowned a bit, but the rest of the ride she didn't raise the zipper up. She openly taunted him the entire trip, to which Jack resisted any urge to comment or possibly make himself vulnerable. Though he did get some great Omni-tool shots, which he forwarded to her email out of spite.

Only when they were about to touch the ground did she close up her catsuit, giving him a smirk the entire time. Walking into Tartarus Station after so long without seeing it was sort of nostalgic. It was also empty, which wasn't so nostalgic or comforting. He halted one of the docking bay technicians and got a look at their console. Nothing seemed out of place or hacked. No signs of attacks or high alerts.

"Can I help you, Sir?" the technician asked, confused.

"No, not at all. Get my pilot here access to your console so that he may find the shuttle i need." The technician wasn't something Jack was worried about. The fact that no one here was panicking or in high alert meant that whoever was after his kids knew enough about the program to be selective in their kidnappings. He could confirm that his children and Jennifor Gosling had been targeted. No one else could be found yet. Walking past the still confused technician, he left James to get them a gunship with transportation room, while he and Hannah went to his office. The loud thumping behind him reminded him of their new accompanying ally, who was getting the attention of the marine contingent on Tartarus Station.

"Gatatog, the soldiers need to feel comfortable and not threatened. Don't draw any weapons unless we are already getting shot at." He heard grumbling, but the Krogan did as asked. "Sergeant Harris, anything troubling going on at home?" He asked the officer as they got into voice range.

"Nothing too serious, sir. Just the ever present construction crews." That was a code word for agents being trained in Tartarus. "Find a new friend we get to scan, Sir?"

"This is Gatatog Grrkl." He totally butchered it. "He is a security advisor from the Krogan. He is also a technical advisor for ships designed by races other than our own. I would prefer if you treated him with the same respect that Matriarch Benezia received."

"You invited a Matriarch here? Quite the feat for a new race. Quarians and Batarians never invited Matriarchs to their planets until they had gotten fully accepted as part of Citadel Space." Grrkl said. "I'll remain perfectly polite while I am under your roof, Human. Especially with what you are paying." It was no secret that working for him meant lots of benefits. James was one of the highest paid and best trained pilots on Earth, and Hannah still got offers to be a rival's secretary. He hadn't hired any personal assistants since.

"Perfect. Harris, If I find anything I need i'll ask you the moment I know of it. Keep up the sharp work." Jack walked on past the security points, waving himself through all of them. He could enjoy that perk, of course. Hannah and Grrkl weren't subjected to anything either, and Amandeep followed along at a reasonable pace.

"There have been five attempts to start the eezo reactor of the _Talon, Sah._" Amandeep said. "People are starting to get into the ship."

"Well, there goes all of my college gear. I had better go down to Earth and get some more." Not a complete loss. He did get to see a good hint of Hannah and saved his best suits and a few things from the other closet that he felt were important. Data had been scrubbed, cleaned, and wiped. All of his consoles had been removed as possible vulnerabilities to Cerberus. "VI, bring up Security feed twelve-oh-one." He stated to his console. The VI didn't reply. He tapped the keyboard on the console in his office, and nothing came up. Looking at the LED board, he could see that his console had been hit by an overload of some kind. It was dead. Turning around quickly, he started walking to the full Security Station. "Hannah, secure the Communications Center. Amandeep, go and make sure that James is alright. We can't lose him if we want to recover my daughters. Grrkl, you are with me and I am going to check out the Security Station." They all nodded, the Krogan's hump brushing a wall as he did so. Jack set off for the chamber where Security had its hub in the base. It was closely, as there were four exits from it. All but one could be sealed from inside, and Jack was one of the few aware of the other two entrances besides the main and side does.

He had no intention of sharing that information with a Krogan. Even one he had hired. But this time around, Jack needed to depend on more than just one race. Shepard had driven that into his skull rather pointedly. If he had to be the first human to embrace aliens in a less than threatening way, that was what it would take to save his race of ignorant masses.

When he got to the Security Station, he found the regular guards there. They looked up at him, and knew who he was. They also knew that while Jack was outside of their direct chain of command, he was also the one who funded and designed the place.

"What can we do for you, Sir?" One of the three officers carefully asked.

"My console has been wiped and removed from the network. We had a security breach while I was gone and I received no notifications for it. Find out who did it and when they did it. I will need all of the security feeds for the last week, and anything out of the ordinary for the rest of the station. Bring in my secretary for questioning and interrogation, as well as all of the janitors. New hires within the last six months are to viewed with extreme suspicion. Especially anyone who had any administrator level privileges over the Solaris expansion." He activated his Omni-tool, sending a notification to the main security console. "When you have any signs that point to who did this, I need to know. Send the information in that encryption to that address."

He waved off the incoming replies of assent, and headed out. Just because his office was wiped didn't mean that he was stopped. He walked to the hospital, and came into one of the elevators. The looks he received with a Krogan behind him were worth the trouble of bringing him. Sadly he could understand why hiring a Krogan made any man feel more at ease. He didn't as he couldn't trust the Krogan if he so willingly accepted his money and contract.

Someone so willing to take the next best thing could betray him easily. He would dump him at first convenient opportunity, unless proven otherwise loyal. The constant thumping behind him kept him a bit tense, but he ignored it as best he could. Entering two different floors into the elevator controls, the elevator asked for his id. When he gave it, the elevator stopped in between the fourteenth and fifteenth floors, and opened their doors into a small chamber set off to the side of the elevator shaft.

This chamber had a backdoor admin console installed, and was theoretically used as a safe room in the hospital unit just in case Miranda or Julia needed a place to hide in Tartarus. Right now it had what he needed, access to the military network and administrator privileges.

"Nice safe room. Needs some food though." Grunted his newest Krogan tough.

"It has the console and access I need, though." Jack remarked. "I believe some nutrition bars are in the cabinet on the left." The sound of the door of the cabinet being opened by the gigantic hands followed.

While the Krogan started looking for food, he went through all of the security logs, looking for any discrepancies. He didn't find many, most of them being human error type of problems. No signs or security alarms were triggered, even around his console. Somehow they got into his room, without triggering anything. Troubling to begin with, but not unexpected. Salarian technology, perhaps. But they had a certain style, and Jack didn't see any signs of intrusion from them here.

His console showed no activity, which made him feel more comfortable. If it was just EMP'd to kill all of the data, then most likely the infiltrator was after his girls, and not his data. When the console locked someone out, which occurred if they password was typed incorrectly or in insufficient time. Jack gave himself three seconds to type fifteen characters, which would then be input into the text field backwards to complete the password. All in all an annoying first layer of cyberwarfare defenses. Jack couldn't take any precautions when it came to Julia and Miranda. They were too important for anything to happen to them before the Reapers started their move.

So whoever intruded into his office didn't manage to withdraw any information, they just disabled the console to stop an alarm. Not something he would have expected, but then again he was always after the information that was kept in the consoles, and not the people. People trafficking and kidnapping just seemed so much less effective, now that he looked back on it. Unless of course he was doing it to save someone from a bad living environment, but he didn't find it in himself to care enough about children other than his own.

Fatherhood was an interesting experience. It created some new desires in Jack that he didn't agree with some of the time. Like the desire to grab a gunship and fly down and pick up his daughters, and get them back to safety. That was pure emotion, a stress response. He couldn't go down there so blatantly. He needed to approach this logically. His enemies had tried to kill him before, but this time he wouldn't have guards or anything else to count on. He would need to send more than just a single gunship. Perhaps a few rocket drones. He grinned, already finding that idea to be perfectly fine.

Then his console sent him a message. Namely, one of his spyware programs installed into his companies. Out of sheer paranoia, he had some programmers place some intrusive detection software in unassuming places in some of the companies he owned. This was one of those alerts, notifying him that something had illegally logged into the datacenter for one of his companies. His heart stopped, seeing the name of the company. Active intrusion was occurring right at that moment, in Sirta Foundation.

It was only a silent alarm, one triggered when the server itself was being accessed without the correct codes being entered into the security station at the front of the data center. Someone was after Sirta Foundation, and it reeked of Salarians. If the kidnappings were just cover for this, then the Salarians were more cutthroat than he would normally admit. But getting their hands on human biotics was not too far outside of their normal operational envelope. Their race had a difficult time creating biotics, and a new race on the horizon that is just barely experimenting with their own may be seen as worth kidnapping. Hell, they even studied the Yagh. Those creatures were dangerous through and through, and had the capacity for extreme cunning.

He exited the console, and moved back to the elevator. Grrkl followed, finding whatever he was doing interesting. "Where to now?"

"I think some Salarian STG are trying to inside one of my datacenters. Feel like ruining their day?"

"Sounds pleasant. Won't be the first time I've fought STG. They like to carry small weapons with lots of shots before they overheat. Lots of tech abilities like Incinerate. Hope you brought armor, or something that can survive better than that cloth." Grrkl said, seemingly recalling information. Jack knew all of this, but couldn't come off as having known that from previous experience.

"How long ago did you fight them last?"

"It's been a few cycles. Twenty, thirty? Could have been that far back. Most of my time in the last cycles have been in Omega or other places. Either way, let me go first. Your armor, no matter what brand it is, won't be strong enough to resist their weapons."

Jack nodded. For now that was true, but they were working on it. "Hannah will assist you. She is one of our best Infiltrators, and specializes in stealth."

The Krogan's large shoulders shrugged, nearly brushing the walls. "I can be quiet, but don't mention that to any other Krogan. They wouldn't take it well. Our race prides itself on being able to run through any barrier, object, or sentient. Being able to sneak up to that sentient before they know you're there isn't exactly a common goal."

"Today, that might just be what keeps us all alive." Jack told him. "We need to get to the hangar bay. Get another shuttle, and send one group to fetch my children and another to stop the Salarians. Human gang is after my children and I don't know what the Salarians are equipped with. The Human gang I can assume will have gunships and troop transports, possibly even an armed freighter."

Grrkl nodded. "Salarians don't operate with their own ships very often in hostile space. Unless it's the Terminus. They operate in teams of six, with one as backup or distraction. Usually in shuttles or normal vehicles that can conceal all of their surveillance gear. So you'll be looking for a mid sized vehicle that can fit them and their stuff." Grrkl just moved up on his list.

"You would recognize something like that on sight?"

He shrugged. "Give me a list of vehicles that can haul the gear they would need and I could do a reasonable job. Better than any other Krogan I know of."

Jack sent a notice to one of his secretaries to get him that list. It may have been the middle of the night for them, but they were also discreet. Not to mention they liked the bonuses that flew whenever tasks like this appeared. He sent the next message to James, letting him know about the need for a second shuttle, not armed. He was going to Zurich, in the European States. Sirta had its servers there, inside one of the nicer data centers. It would only be a matter of time before the Salarians got into place. Police would be noticed if he sent them, and any information they retrieved would be stolen for sure if the police had to do their normal routine.

When they got to the hangar, Hannah was there with James in front of a Hades class gunship. Amandeep wasn't anywhere nearby, but that was acceptable. He was not a combat specialist. Though he was indispensable when it came to keeping his ships and gear up to par. Looking between James, Hannah, and Grrkl, he decided that things were rather grim.

"So, the situation has just changed. Some Salarians are trying to get into Sirta Foundation. Hannah, you'll come with me and we are going to stop the Salarians. Grrkl, you take the missile launcher and James will pilot the gunship. I don't know how much you'll be running into out there. So pack heavy. My daughters are underneath the surface of the ocean in an artificial island. The island is using a rotational floating method to maintain its depth. If they arms that are rotating the island are destroyed, then it will sink to the bottom of the ocean. The pressure will increase upon the structure until the content are crushed. If this occurs, there is an escape pod, but that will only make them more vulnerable. Your objective is to rescue my children and their caretaker, and keep them from being killed. In the last hour three gunships and a submarine were rented from nearby ports. The gunships won't have missiles but they will outnumber you. I can't find out the original source of one of the gunships, which might suggest that it might have some illegal firepower."

"What about local law enforcement?" Hannah asked.

"The locals are all billionaires with no interest in being interrupted. Only once shots are fired will Alliance patrols take a look. Don't depend on them. Hannah, there could be up to six Salarians on site. We will deal with them soon enough. James, once you have my daughters, pick a safe location and get them out of there. Send me the location you plan on taking them to, and then take them somewhere else. My communications are being monitored."

Grrkl and James nodded. "We will protect the children. Or may _Kaalros_ take our souls." James just nodded. The girls knew him well enough. Hopefully they would react to a Krogan in some sort of positive way. At least the fear reaction wouldn't offend him. James was dependable, and he put time in on many of the vehicles and ships that had come out recently. The Hades gunship was a human development, with two large side mounted cannons and some missile pods. It sported a very fine ability to handle turbulence and trouble. The Mantis gunships that would follow in a decade or so would be much more popular, as they had something the Hades lacked. Namely, a backup generator if the engine went down. Gunships were very agile, but not very strong. This one had a military grade kinetic barrier, which was much better than the civilian version, which was mostly meant to just stop collisions from being deadly. They did nothing to cure stupidity.

Jack hopped over to the second shuttle they had, unarmed. Or at least visibly. He had a submachine gun and a large pistol, as well as his Omni-tool. Hannah hopped in, with her shotgun and a pistol. They wouldn't be too far from anyone they were trying to shoot today. The shuttle he chose was a simple driver, which he pointed at the pilot seat for Hannah to drive. He had an image to keep. She shrugged, moving to sit down. The bulge of the cottontail made her catsuit seem like she had a hidden weapon at her very lower back. He still wasn't happy that she had decided to steal that.

He waved to James, who had finished pre-flight and was making sure that Grrkl could stay in the back seats. The Krogan needed the safety harness, which he scoffed at. Right up until James did a rolling exit, making Grrkl almost fall out of the harness, and james using the roll to accelerate into atmosphere. Jack grinned at that. Then his shuttle took off, Hannah flying towards the snowy city of Zurich. There was a light snowstorm that was coming down, which Hannah was easily able to fly through. The data center was in the middle of the new industrial district, rather empty during the christmas season.

The few vehicles on the road were just the remaining workers around for the night time shifts. Few in number but enough to make finding a nondescript vehicle hard. So he made his job easier and logged into the local traffic controller network. He searched for any vehicles that were actively moving and fit the profile description. The local VI was willing to help, and supplied the locations of a large furniture delivery truck, four cargo haulers, and a church bus that were all actively moving. He left nothing to chance, using the cameras to check on each vehicle. The church bus was ruled out, as it was full of sleeping children. It also had the word for orphanage on it. Not likely to contain an alien threat. The furniture truck was headed out of the area, and had three humans crammed into the front compartment. Not likely but he kept that on the list.

The four cargo haulers couldn't be scanned as easily, so he went into the database to find out about their ownership records. They were all owned by legitimate sources, and nothing about them stood out to his experienced eye. But then again, there was no way to verify that the actual owner was also the one driving. Some of these were company vehicles. Others were privately owned or in the process of a lease. Strangely every vehicle had made their payments perfectly. That was more suspicious than anything else.

While he looked into that, Hannah flew them into the local traffic without any problems. Hardly anyone was out here. "Any luck?" She asked. "Or should we just stop them at the datacenter?"

"They're Salarians. We need to hit their upload device. Whatever they are using to hack or cover themselves. If they aren't in any of these vehicles, they might be somewhere nearby. Think you can find out if any of the buildings on the same power grid have expired leases, or are being rented out to any company with low ratings."

She nodded, setting the car to auto-pilot and searching on her Omni-tool for that. He started looking for parked vehicles that matched the list he had made. That came back with a well populated list. He didn't trust anyone with this, so he started going through it himself. There were hundreds of vehicles. The equipment didn't need to be powered, either. So the car or vehicle they were hiding in didn't need to be powered. They just needed a location that could hide their signals. Considering that, he started looking for where all of the shipping containers were brought into the city. The space dock had a nice VI that was easily avoided as he looked up the location of where all of those had been shipped.

Hannah had finished her search and forwarded it to him, and he compared that list with the list of locations that shipping containers had been sent to. "Bingo." He said. "Take us to this address. It's supposedly a cabinet shop, with an attached foundry. Large location, but just came under new management. A few shipping containers were sent in. Some of those were not completely full or have incomplete records for scanning and customs. More importantly and most damning, however, is that they are owned by Fredericksen Shipping. That company is so deeply in debt trying to prepare itself for the full galactic economy. They will take money from any source, as will their underpaid workers."

"So they would take money from Salarians?"

"They would take money from anything, at this point. They just cut wages for the third time." Jack said, bringing up the local network of connections. He found a perfect person for the next part of his work. "They'll also take bribes from other questionable sources. Like me, for example. I just need a couple of things, like the location of their docking bay. Some of them might do it for free if it means that the company looks bad." Surprisingly, he had a response very quickly from one of the more vocal forum goers. A sum of money to justify his betrayal of his company netted Jack codes to the exterior doors, as well as the location of where the docking cradles were.

Jack had the codes to enter any of the doors on the complex, so he decided to do the smart thing. He went right into the front door. The solitary night guard didn't pose a threat. Hannah stopped him with a taser and locked him to one of the air conditioning units, which were somewhere in the range of eight hundred pounds of weight. Once bolted to the wall, there was no way for the guard to escape. Or get the word out to anyone else. So, leisurely Jack walked through the front doors and secure areas of the facility, exactly where someone wouldn't expect to have to defend from. He encountered no one on his way to the loading docks, where he finally saw signs of other people alive at this time of night.

The vending machines were active, which was suspicious. He stayed back from them, considering that they might have their motion sensors active. It would be simple to have those wired to an alarm of some sort. But that was what Omni-tools were for. A short burst of Overload would keep the machines down, as well as needing them to have a restart in the morning.

Hannah walked beside him, watching as he moved through the building. Her methods would probably be cleaner, but she didn't know what to look for. Salarians were one of the best races at emulation. They weren't that innovative, but when presented with new technology they absorbed it into their culture and doctrine quickly. They depended on the Asari to feed them that technology over the years, and as such were just leeches in the galactic economy. They attached themselves to whatever would buoy them up, while barely expanding their territory and limiting their growth. As such, the signs to find the Salarians were that of looking for a well practiced spy or corporate insert.

Fraud and embezzlement signs were good things for the Salarians to hide behind. Dirty and corrupt supervisors were another. But as this was only a few blocks from the datacenter, this would be one of the best locations to bounce the data off of before withdrawing from the area. If they wanted to stop them, they couldn't do so from the datacenter. They had to go after the location of the data point they were bouncing the information to.

The dockyard had four containers in it. One was rusty, while the others were clean enough to be considered newer. He couldn't see anything on the outside that suggested that they were his target, but this would be the place. The containers were thick enough to hide any electronic signatures, as well as keep any of their signatures from leaving. So they would need to have some sort of cable or wire going to the outside of the crate to have a signal to transfer data through.

"Hannah. On top of the containers there should be a small dish or electronic receiver on the container that is our target. I need you to find out which one that is, and then find out where their sentries are. The Salarians perfected the stealth net not long after the Asari did, and we will need to find them soon enough. Even with the snow, expect it to be very difficult to find them. The only good thing that you have going for you is that Salarians don't have thermal regulation occur naturally. Their ability to withstand the cold is fairly limited. With it being near zero outside, they will be needing some form of heat to stay capable. Look for that, and you'll find them."

Hannah nodded, cloaking and disappearing into the night. The loading docks were exposed on one front, and the snow carpeted the area where the cargo ships could land. The shipping containers were all lined up along one wall. Each was around five feet further than the other, and one was still exposed to the outside. The rusted one, of course. It hadn't been moved in a long time, judging by the discoloration on the floor from all of the flakes of rust coming off of it.

The other three containers seemed to be all new, and lined up with their doors perfectly sealed. Jack, though, could see that there was some sort of shimmer by one of the air vents. That was probably one of the Salarians. He had to use his extendable camera on the end of his Omni-tool to be able to see the dockyard area, and even then the picture was grainy in some places. He would have to wait until Hannah came back.

That took nearly ten minutes. When she did come back, she was dragging a garbage bag with three bodies. All of them were small. "Found them. Since they didn't seem to have any identification, I guess they resisted arrest." He could see a bit of blood coming down from her face, as well as her arm. "Their weapons sprayed me a little bit. I think they -" any further words from her were drawn out by the sound of a rifle shot. Hannah went down, the shot going right through her leg. Judging by the echoing _thoom_ of the weapon, it was a Turian sniper rifle. Bastards wanted any attack to be deniable.

He left the bodies, and dragged Hannah back into the cover of the nearby hallway. She stayed quiet, not squealing or losing focus. She kept a hand on her shoulder, the other one hanging loose. "He shot my knee out!" There was real fear in her eyes as she looked towards the entrance to the hallway, waiting for the Salarians to follow. Their combat doctrine was usually silence and a singular focus on a single objective. They wanted Hannah alive if they only shot her in the knee.

"You better not stain those fishnets. That might be the last one." He told her, making her gawk at him. But by that time he was in motion, having gotten her out of her initial shock. He threw two tech grenades, attaching them to the wall in the area that the Salarians would have to go through to get to Hannah. If they were going to successfully take her, it would be in the next few seconds. So, he took a very deep breath and flapped the lapels on his jacket.

One thing about being the leader of Cerberus was that all of the best toys were at his disposal. One such toy was a cloaking field that would last a few seconds, but need to be plugged in to recharge again. Jack had tried not to use it so far, but right now he needed to. With a flash, the field activated, and he slowly walked forward, making as little noise as possible. Hannah didn't react as much to this as she had his callous comment.

It was only seconds later that two shimmers moved past the corner, their weapons trained on Hannah. Neither of them had a Turian Sniper rifle, though. He couldn't take the chance to wait for their ally with the rifle, just in case they decided to off Hannah. He touched his wrist, triggering the tech grenades that flared next to the Salarians. Then, he broke his cloaking field with an Overload to finish off their shields. With their guns jammed and their shields down, he could safely take a split second to enjoy the look of surprise on their faces as he fired a single shot to each. Their heads popped backwards with the force of the bullets he was using in his very illegal pistol. But hey, when you have explosive rounds, it is worth using them, even when a pistol overheats in two shots.

Meanwhile, Hannah fired with her shotgun sometime during or after when he fired the pistol. The explosive rounds and the shotgun spray caused quite the gory mess, one that wouldn't be cleaned up easily.

"Jack! They can't get to their signal repeater!" Hannah said, realizing like he did that there was at least one more "Second container on the left!" She brought out some medigel, and started applying it to her leg. Jack placed his overheated pistol on the ground, and grabbed Hannah's shotgun. It would cool down quicker and make more mess. His pistol took a full minute to cool with explosive rounds, and he didn't have the skill with a knife that Hannah did.

Instead of running outside like an idiot, he walked over to one of the terminals to the dockyard and logged in with his security codes that he shamelessly bought earlier. Too bad the employee would be implicated now, but there was not much he could do about that. Firstly, he sealed all of the air vents with a contaminant alert. That would keep him from leaving. Then he sealed all of the other entrances with the computer systems, which won't be hard for the Salarians to overcome.

But now the whole area was sealed and locked down, and he took control of the crane controls. He had no need to charge out there and risk his life. Technology was as much his ally as it was theirs. With the crane, he hoisted the container with the Salarian data repeater up off the ground, and lifted the bulky object up towards the ceiling. With it no longer in range of the Salarian operative, Jack waited. Sure enough, another user logged into the system immediately. He sent them a cheerful text message. _Corporate Espionage not treating you well?_

He didn't get a reply, but the Salarians must have gotten codes from people higher up in the company than him. He was getting locked out from the console. He grinned, though. One thing that the alien didn't know about was the wonderful power of human paranoia. With a press of the button, he triggered the fire alarm. This also triggered every other alarm in the area, as the contaminant alarm also went off.

Jack nearly whistled as he pulled a cart out of a janitor closet and lifted Hannah up on to it. With her shotgun, he shot every single camera in the building on his way out, not caring about the Salarian who was about to have his life become very uncomfortable. Even if he managed to move and dispose of all five of the bodies of his comrades, their blood was all over the walls. There was no way to hide the evidence. Not only that, but the company would come under scrutiny for accepting bribes from alien races.

With the security system in disarray and the cameras gone, he safely wheeled Hannah back out to the shuttle. Emergency vehicles were on their way, and he had no intention of being caught here. It would be suspicious for a shuttle to blast off and away right as the emergency vehicles showed up. So he just got Hannah loaded and into the bench seats in the back of the shuttle, and laid down some plastic sheeting first. She was still bleeding from her arm, but her face had stopped. Or rather the blood had dried. Her knee was another story. It was shattered, and Hannah couldn't put any weight on it. It would need some reconstructive surgery, and she needed to go in for her reconstructive surgery for her back as well.

So he waited, at least until the emergency services vehicles to show up. They rushed into the building, with police and fire department members, as well as contaminant outbreak prevention forces. When they all had arrived or entered the building, Jack finally lifted off. The police were too busy trying to seal the building, and only scanned his shuttle as he lifted off. Driving was something that normally was below him, but right now Hannah couldn't sit still even if she tried. She had enough painkillers in her system that she wouldn't notice everything else happening around her.

She groaned as the shuttle moved upwards, her body tilting on the bench. Seatbelts were the only thing holding her there, which put stress upon her knee. He couldn't see the damage, but there was only one hole through her armor. Blood had bubbled up from that hole, and he was sure that contained the pieces of her kneecap. Her armor was worth a fortune, which was why the shot from the sniper rifle didn't actually pierce the front of the knee joint of the armor. The back, weaker in general, was where the shot had passed through. He grimaced at the thought of how much this was going to take to fix. Possibly months in traction while they rebuilt her knee.

He set the shuttle into auto-pilot for Tartarus, and brought up his Omni-tool. _Hey Boss, I'm just taking your little princesses back to california. They are ok, if a bit wet. Your new friend is a bit of a party animal, but nothing that can't be predictable. See you in a few hours._

_ James_

Jack shrugged. Looks like James had successfully extracted the girls. He was taking them somewhere that wasn't california, in a certified military gunship. He would have to keep an eye out for that. He trusted James. James was one of the few people who saw all parts of Jack's life. He understood how important those girls were. He would take care of them.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

May 2164, Over the Pacific Ocean

James let the gunship fall through the atmosphere, getting a feel for how the craft handled as it fell through the air. Sometimes, that was just the best way to see how it would handle high stress turns. He took a deep breath, getting used to a craft that handled much more admirably than a shuttle. Behind him in the passenger compartment he could hear the rumblings from the Krogan riding with him. Apparently he didn't appreciate the fine art that was a rollback exit from Tartarus station. Or perhaps James wrongly assumed that he was safely strapped in.

Either way, the pilot knew his job, and that was to blow the living hell out of anyone threatening Jack Harper's children and their caretaker. He hadn't shot a gun from any vessel or his hand since Jack had hired him, but he had always stayed busy. In fact, he had become rated for nearly every vehicle that could theoretically be used or bought by Jack Harper. He never thought that he would need to be rated for cruisers or larger ships, since Jack was such a stickler for being on time and having as few people as possible knowing about his personal life.

Sneaking prostitutes and models past Hannah Shepard had been some of the harder things Jack has asked him to do. Other times it was simply the ease of driving. Stopping attacks on his person or items was mostly a practice in precautions. Keep the shuttle from being parked anywhere that wasn't actively patrolled or being monitored. Keep the engine running, and if possible stay up in the air. Jack hates the press, and enjoys his life away from them. Avoid any press van if at all possible.

Always be armed, or threaten those that are unarmed as if you are. Never sleep without checking on all electronic sources, and communications channels that are broadcasting around you. Always check the application that lists the location of all Alliance military personnel and vehicles. If those last two didn't match up, something was going wrong. Lastly, and most importantly, keep the windows up. Kinetic Barriers are no substitute for the armored paneling that the windows contained. That had been handy on more than one occasion.

He started piercing the cloud layer, and the exterior of the gunship was getting warmer. He slowed them down, letting the cooler upper atmosphere calm down the ship's exterior armor. He let the gunship come to a coasting speed, keeping him in the uppermost sections of the atmosphere. But his scanner could see everything below him.

A hundred miles ahead of him and twenty-five thousand feet lower, Jack's island sat submerged in the water. He saw two signatures around it, and a third more than fifty miles out. It didn't look like it was associated with the other two signatures, but he didn't take that chance. He primed his cannons and started heading lower. His signatures on the radar said that one was a shuttlecraft and the other was a passenger shuttle, meant for traversing between planets within the system. That meant is was near thirty or forty meters long, and could be armed without much trouble.

His gunship, though had missiles and the ability to blow away anything else in the sky. As he approached, he could see small scans hitting the gunship. Strangely, the entire spectrum of communication channels went quiet as he came within range. Jamming, then. He opened the onboard communications system.

"Hey, big Krogan fella, they're jamming us. I think they are going to start shooting at us soon."

"Alright, pilot. I trust your skill. May we have many battles together." Looking back, he could see the Krogan loading a large weapon, something that would probably knock him over and break bones if he fired it. "Just make sure to let me have a chance to help out."

"What is that thing?" He asked.

"_Ryrrch _Magentic Rifle. It shoots polarized chunks of metal, and if I can hit anything important, it sticks. You can lock on with missiles to the chunk, and it'll override the jamming."

James just thought about that for a moment. "I think this is a start to a beautiful friendship." He keyed the button to override the lock on the side door of the gunship. "Buckle yourself in and open the door when you're ready. We will be in combat range in a couple minutes."

He just heard deep baritone laughter emanating on the other side of the divider. He refocused on the incoming craft, seeing the larger vehicle hovering on top of the island, and the smaller shuttle was moving towards them at a fast clip. He noticed that it was at a speed that normal models of shuttle didn't achieve very often. He flipped off the safety, and didn't bother sending any hails. With the jamming, it was obvious that something was illegal or going down. It also explained why Jack hadn't heard anything from Nyra or the girls yet.

The shuttle had some sort of pod attached to the inside, and its doors slid open, letting the pods extend outwards. His eyes widened. Missiles pods, and fully loaded, painted him. He triggered his ECM, letting the first pair of missiles go wide. He had to break off from a direct course on the craft to dodge the missiles. Worse, the shuttle had ECM itself.

So he didn't use the missiles and just activated the turret cannons. Twin barrels spat shots at the other shuttle as it tried to line up on their rear, the turret able to hit any angle that wasn't directly above the cockpit. The other shuttle tried to break off, but took a heavy blow from something else. Whatever the Krogan was shooting, it hit hard. The cannons had stripped the shuttle of its shields, and were starting to carve into its plating. The Magnetic rifle struck the front of the shuttle, causing some sort of sparks to flare. The shuttle started losing altitude, but James didn't let up. Pilots had been known to fake their own deaths for centuries.

He made sure that the engines of the shuttle were scrap before turning to face the passenger transport. The time he had spent killing off the shuttle had been spent wisely, as he could see some sort of turrets poking out of the frame. He doubted that it would have missiles, but he didn't know. He kept over a mile away, not trusting his shots to hit the island below.

They didn't make any moves to change their position. They had the defensive advantage. They didn't have to move, and were probably the source of the jamming. With the island right beneath them, they had no need to move or abandon their position. James huffed in annoyance, as he had every right to blow them out of the sky. But he couldn't risk the island.

His board started bleeping with a missile lock. He rolled, diving towards the water. One nice thing about Element Zero engines and mass drivers was that they weren't weak to intake of water. If they stayed submerged, then the engine would flood, and the output would die. But it was safe enough to dip into water for a moment. He dove towards the water, finding a large swell to target. The missiles were behind his craft a few hundred feet, and he let them come.

The gunship swept towards the water like a hawk diving, and he leveled out right into the largest swell of water he could find. This required him diving under the water with the craft for a moment, getting warnings all over the place. He had sealed the cockpit, but cringed a bit when he remembered that the Krogan might not have been perfectly ready for that. He kicked in the thrusters as he hit the wall of water, boiling any water that tried to flood into the engine ports.

He kicked in enough to break through the water on the other side of the swell, and could hear the clap of the missiles hitting the other side of the swell. At that speed, they would be triggering their warheads on the water, which would be as hard as stone when the missiles were going faster than the speed of sound. The gunship James had taken to a speed slightly below the speed of sound, so that he wouldn't take any damage from the water. When he came out from the swell, he smiled at the sight of a second shuttle armed with missile pods and the passenger ship, now perfectly highlighted in front of his guns. Stray shots wouldn't hit the island.

The gunship rumbled as shots and droplets of water sprayed from it, charging out from the water level and to a few hundred feet in the air. His rounds splashed against the barriers of the passenger craft, and he was surprised that the barriers held. Must have been some black market ones, as these were rated for more than just space debris. He loosed a pair of missiles at it, but they flew past harmlessly, not seeing the target. The jamming must have been coming from on board that ship, as those missiles should have locked on.

He rolled, coming on a new heading that faced the other shuttle. With a bit of relish he got behind it and gave it all of the shot and flak that they could have ever asked for in a birthday present. It didn't have as many shields as its partner had, and went down within a few seconds. With the jamming, he couldn't hear or pay attention to whatever they were saying on the radio, and that was not his usual experience.

With both shuttles, gone, he executed a rather flashy flip roll, reorienting himself on the passenger shuttle. He could see stray fire from whatever turrets they had brought up spraying towards him, being only aimed by human hands. They had no computer assisted targeting systems, so James just smiled.

"Goodbye, and may someone have mercy on you." He said out loud, knowing that they wouldn't be able to reply. His shots started chewing holes in some of the bulkheads of the shuttlecraft, and eventually hit something that sparked and lit on fire. The shuttle lost altitude, and eventually hit the water. James let a deep breath that he was holding out, and leveled the gunship out. He looked back at the rear compartment, he spoke over the wireless. "Well, how was that?"

The Krogan was mid-puking, water and goodness knew what else coming out of him and onto the floor. Every single seat was soaked, and water trailed off the cabin in bursts. Water also flowed out of the Krogan's armor, draining out of the shuttle. His only reply to James' comment was to keep coughing, but he was sure that if the Krogan really was going to express himself it would be with his guns.

James flew towards the island, seeing no signs of any movement around the area. But the jamming was going down, and the regular bands of communication came back suddenly. His volume had been set to high so that he could notice when he had a signal, so that made him jump a little bit.

"Mayday! Mayday! We are going down!" The shuttle was making a wide band frequency call, which is exactly the wrong thing to hear. He activated the encrypted communications settings in his Omni-tool, and sent out a small signal to any other tools in range. If they had the encryption level correct, then they would get the message clearly. If not, it would be viewed as spam. _Hey you little Hellions. Get up here already and let's get out of here._

He got a reply immediately. _James! _Along with a much more calmly typed _We're Coming, Uncle._ The girls must have clearly gotten his message. But he needed to get out of here fast, since the idiot mercenaries had called out an SOS.

Thankfully, Tartarus was well aware of the situation, and would be able to cover him. He was sure that some Alliance INtelligence Official had his eyes on them through a drone or satellite system. He noticed the water boiling, or so it appeared, as Jack's pleasure island rose out of the ocean. It looked pretty shot up already, with a few areas torn up from the turrets on the passenger shuttle The beach was completely gone, the sand having been lifted off by the ocean current as the island submerged. The grass topped huts were exposed, and the bar was completely shredded. Some sort of burn marks existed on the housing section of the island, and what was left standing was limited to the central building. It had holes throughout it, the indoor pool revealed as well as the kitchen.

He whistled. "Boss is gonna be pissed! His island is trashed."

The Krogan leaned forward out of the window, and made a sound that was between a burp and a snort. He assumed it was only laughter. "Looks like a party. Glad we were here before it ended, look at the flotation rings." He pointed, showing the underwater structure that rotated and kept the island afloat. The small spinning structures had been cut or shot up in many places, and only the air tanks located along some of the rings kept the island afloat. "I don't think it is rated for you to land any longer. Let's get a rope down for them."

James smirked. "You obviously don't trust my flying enough. Let me show you why I am one of the top rated pilots in Human Alliance space!"

Before he could complain to James about the mathematical probability that the island wouldn't support their weight, James flew the gunship into a rolling dive to the island, only having enough room to do one barrel roll. Then he carefully slowed the craft, letting the Krogan get up from where he had been thrown in his harness, and brought it level with the island. The actual beach was raised up, roughly sixty feet above the water level, with a small bay of salt water filtered up through the island. That bay was filled with water from the ocean and debris, and was draining through the holes blown in it. He turned the back of the gunship around, and activated the exterior camera. With it, he could measure the range from the tailfin to the nearest object.

The Krogan was swearing under his breath as the gunship came into range of the water level of the beach, the metal grating that had been containing the sand exposed. He set the autopilot to stay at current altitude, and then angled the ship sideways so that one of the wings was a few inches off the ground. An old fashioned anchor sat a few inches below the wing, and a few inches further would end with the wing getting caught in one of the shredded holes. But James skillfully moved with the island as it adjusted to the large swells. It was actually rather easy. He set the altitude relative to the object directly underneath the gunship, and then just had to control the forward motions.

The sound of squealing alerted him to his next passengers. He saw Jack's two little girls, perfectly fine and looking a bit tired. Behind them came a vision of beauty that James hadn't been prepared for. He was used to flying models and ridiculously beautiful women to anywhere Jack was, and getting completely ignored by them. The Asari he saw was deadly. She obviously had those biotics that had the human race all worried, and was carrying one of those Terminus pistols that were only technically legal in certain parts of the galaxy.

She also didn't have any armor on, which made him notice everything else about her. It seemed as though everything people had been saying about Asari was pretty true. The way she scanned James and the Krogan as threats, though, that was something he was used to feeling when Jack met with mercenaries or toughs. Soldiers from Cerberus would view people like this. Scan you as if they were sizing you up as a threat, see how fast they could kill you. He didn't like that. Thankfully her gaze drifted to the Krogan, who was scanning the water for signs of any of the mercenaries possibly making it to the island.

"Still got your magnetic gun thing?" James asked. The name escaped him. "Can you put that beacon on that hallway? Boss would prefer I sink this place." He turned to the girls. "Ok, you two, climb up on the wing. We have a boat to catch."

"What is a boat?" The Asari said, using some sort of biotics to make her own mass smaller. She wasn't destabilizing the wing at all. She walked across it with confidence, though. James was expecting to have to compensate for all of the weight on the wing, but the Asari managed to make it to the cabin without trouble. Miranda and Julia both piled in, making an effort to both get into the co-pilot seat. They were small enough to both fit.

"I think you managed to get every inch of this gunship wet." The Asari told him. "Impressive."

"Try being the passenger. I think I still have some of the water in my backup lungs." The Krogan grumbled. At that, the girls finally noticed him and went completely quiet. They had never seen something like him before.

The Krogan looked over at them, completely soaked and dripping all over. "What are you lookin' at?"

Miranda looked uncomfortable, but Julia leaned forward. "You look like a turtle."

The Krogan seemed to draw in on himself. Then he started laughing. "Alright, youngling. Is it bad to look like a _turtle_?" The alien had to slide his large tongue around the word. Obviously it didn't translate.

"You could be a ninja turtle!" She turned to Miranda. "Which one is he?"

Miranda just shook her head, looking terrified. Julia just gave her an expectant look. The Krogan looked up at James. "What is that?"

James grinned. "Girls, he is just like Donatello. His real name is Grundle or something."

"Gatatog _Grrkl._" He heard from the back.

"Don!" Julia said. "I'll call you Don!"

The Krogan seemed to smile. "What is this Donatergo famous for?"

"He invented things! Like a shuttle, with guns! And a grappling hook!" Julia was quick to extol one of her favorite TV shows. It was possibly one of the dozens of restarts of the market. Mutant Ninja Turtles were the heroes that made a resurgence every time a new generation of viewers came around.

"Don is the scientist." Miranda said, breaking through her fear of the big alien. "He makes all of the technology work."

At that, the Krogan barked a loud laugh. "I would be honored to be given such a name. Call me Gatatog Don, youngling. I am an Engineer and Shipbuilder among my people. Among humans, I shall take the name of Don!" His loud voice scared Miranda, James could see, but made Julia quite happy.

Nyra, the Asari, just laughed at him. "She just named you after a fictional hero. Not even something with proper anscestry."

"I care not for your prattle, wench. The name of a scientist is a rare thing to have bestowed upon you. As I am in the service of her father, I will gladly take the name of Don upon myself." James just raised an eyebrow. He wasn't paid to worry about this. It was way above his concern to worry about what an alien chose to call himself. He decided that aliens were just weird.

Contenting himself with that, he set the direction of the gunship to the nearby island of Hawaii. He had cash and a direction. The difficulty was just hiding a giant turtle-alien and a half naked blue woman with head tentacles. Oh, and the ability to ignore physics. As soon as he set the destination on the computer, he could see other vehicles inbound. Some were generic emergency vehicles, and others were military ones. He wrote a note to his contact at Tartarus, letting him know that he needed to disappear from the radar and focus of the investigations that would follow.

He ignored any arguments or comments that happened behind him, and just focused on driving fast enough to get out of the area but not fast enough to be noticed. Cloud cover didn't matter unless it was thick enough to block out hundreds of miles of territory. That would be risky to fly through, though. Jack returned his text, rather quickly. James grinned. Jack had no idea where he was going.

Following the rules drilled into him by Jack, he couldn't go to anywhere he had gone before, and he couldn't take the girls and their allies to somewhere they would be noticed. So that left very few places. With two aliens he couldn't hide and two children being targeted by someone, his options were limited. He had a place, though.

"Well, I think we are going to go to one of the safe houses." He said. "Attention passengers," He let over the intercom, "We are going to be experiencing scenic wilderness areas, and not a single person to be found within a hundred miles."

"Where are we going uncle James?" Julia's voice was loud. Typical that she would get her Omni-tool linked up to the gunship systems first.

"We are going to the old Midwestern States. Most people think that it's dangerous to go there after all the ecological damage and wars that happened last century. Your dad doesn't believe that. More importantly, he found a place that we can go hide at. But most people think we are going to go to California, where my house and your dad's house are. I don't want anyone shooting up my house, or your dad's house, so we are going to go and hide in the badlands."

"Where is Daddy, though?"

"Doing the _really_ important thing." He said. "Stopping people from shooting at you. Your daddy is probably working on that right now." James had the more important job and he knew it. Jack Harper depended on his children being protected. He hated having to lie to them about where they were going, but Jack had told him to trust no one. The Krogan and the Asari might sell them out, and by telling them the location he was going to switch vehicles, that might prove that they couldn't be trusted. He sighed as he input the final destination's coordinates into his Omni-tool. He would upload it to the next vehicle when they got there. Until then, he disabled all communications and sent a short message to the girls explaining that their dad wanted them to hide, so they needed to wait until they were in a safe place before contacting him.

Jack sat outside the operating theatre, watching as the best doctors in the Alliance Navy went to work on Hannah. Initial scans of her knee revealed a mangled mess. The shot had gone through most of the ligaments and torn into the cartilage, and bounced around a bit when it hit the protective layer on the front of her kneecap. The armor she had been wearing had become more of a liability than a help, keeping the shot in and bouncing the small speck all around her kneecap.

With her nerves shredded, she had a lot longer than a few months to recuperate. She had at least a year of down time, and she wasn't looking forward to it. Or at least she wouldn't be when she woke up. She had been asleep since they got her onboard the station. Anesthetics were hardly required once Jack had given her some painkillers. She also had plenty of damage to her arm and face, and one of her cheekbones was out of alignment. Unfortunately, that was Jack's fault. He didn't secure her head well enough when the shuttle took off, and broke her cheekbone in his haste to get back here.

Her arm wasn't too badly wounded, just shot. Mostly muscle tissue was damaged in that. Her knee still had everything inside of it thanks to her armor, which kept all of the bits from going anywhere. He felt more than a little responsible for this, as the chief doctor tore into him about taking someone on medical leave into a combat situation. The man actually had the balls to write him up.

He couldn't fault the doctor for his choice, in fact if the shoe was on the other foot Jack would be sending lawyers. He loved the look on people's face when a lawyer showed up within minutes of the altercation. Unfortunately, there was no way he could go after this doctor. He was head of the most sophisticated department in the system, perhaps in all of the System Alliance. He actually had enough clout to come after Jack directly. That didn't make him feel any better about it, as the doctor had restricted him from being near Hannah for the near future.

James had mentioned that he was going near California, but the gunship dropped off the map somewhere over the old Utah territory. That was a few hours ago, and he had to stew there quietly. Benezia had asked for a status update about Nyra all of the sudden, suggesting that she had her own system of informants and spies in human space. Or Nyra had just been out of contact for a few days and Benezia had noticed. Her sister commandoes also noticed, and had discreetly asked him where she was. That could explode in his face if this situation wasn't resolved.

He had no agents he could ask for help, and he didn't have the _Talon_ to move things safely and without being scanned. Amandeep was here on Tartarus, working on tracking the _Talon_, which had already been towed into Batarian space. The mobile connection that they had was all that Amandeep had to go on, and he was focusing on that.

So, with nothing but himself, he had to solve this situation. Salarians were somehow involved, and could be associated with the kidnappings of the children. Or they may have been aware of it and just timed their hit at the same time. It was coincidental, and it didn't sit well with him. Hannah was out of combat for more than a year now, thanks to him. James was in hiding in one of his safe houses, which he knew the location of. Jack had shown him all of them, and if he could guess, whoever was looking for his girls would be on the lookout for a couple of aliens and some children.

James knew his stuff, and he knew where all of the safe houses were. He had to trust him to do the job. He looked up, as a heavy boot thudded across the hallway. Henry Lawson was there, with a perplexed look on his face.

"Jack? You bloke! Get up from there and come with me. A man of your stature can't just sit down on the job." Henry grasped his arm, helping him stand up from his seat. "I've figured out why your daughter is having trouble with her biotics."

Jack pointed towards one of the doctor's offices. Confidentiality was important enough that the hospital had its own security system, one run by a civilian rather than a military directive. It was also something he had access to, and could turn off for sensitive reasons. He did so as soon as Henry followed him into the room, and then turned to him.

"Is this a flaw from when we started this process?" He asked carefully.

"Flaw in the genetics, perhaps. You and Hannah both had the same recessive gene, which became stronger in Julia. Miranda doesn't have it as strongly, but Julia has some traits that appear to be related to Autism, but are a bit more telling. Your daughters both have Asperger's a related syndrome."

Jack remembered being tested for that while he still lived with his mother. Not a pleasant memory, either. Asperger's Syndrome was considered a mental condition, a very disputed one. Some claimed that it was a natural path of evolution for the human brain, while others considered it to be a form of autism that had the possibility for normal functionality in life. Asperger's didn't have a cure, or a way around it. He could deal with the social skills part of things, but many people with Asperger's had issues with reading facial expressions or auditory input. That was crippling. But it was too late to try again. He didn't have much availability for a backup plan other than Miranda, who had the same syndrome.

"How does this relate to biotics?" He asked Henry, not seeing the connection. The syndrome did not affect the nerve synapses that controlled biotics, nor did it change the way the nervous system worked.

"Julia will have the same problem that all Asperger's have. A problem of emotions. They pick up on feelings around them and feel them more deeply than other people. Apparently. I have no idea, but that is what the book says. God knows I haven't cared about emotions in years. But to people with this, emotions are like the air they breathe. Apparently if they feel too strongly, they lock up. Sort of like how Julia has always hated the crowds. At first she likes being there, and then soon enough she locks up and doesn't know what to do. Same thing happens with her biotics. She will still be able to learn, but I would recommend private instruction for all biotics from now on."

"Are you trying to say that Julia can't handle peer pressure?" She would face much worse than that before everything was said and done.

"Until she can understand her condition and work past it, she will lock up anytime social situations become too much for her. One on one, she should be fine as long as you don't push her too hard."

"How will this affect her in the long run? Will it stunt her and Miranda's growth? Will it cripple their capabilities?"

Henry shrugged. "It shouldn't compromise her ability to function. Socially she will be considered below average. Her mental capacity though, will be considerably better. Most subjects with Asperger's developed or had photographic memory and amazing retention skills. I would say that Julia has that capacity already. What you aren't going to like is the social problems that occur with this syndrome. If she is going to overcome the social problems, it will have to be her choice."

Jack clenched his fist. He tried to find some connection to the Reapers, Constantine, anything. But logic could not be denied. His own contribution to this had caused this. He had effectively crippled Julia just because he had a gene. Nothing like your own body betraying you to make you feel down. That was when he felt a bottle pressed into his hand. Looking down, he could see it was some sort of brandy.

"Asari stuff. Figured you'd need it. Doctor's orders, drink up."

"I can't." Jack muttered, this being one occasion where he very much wanted to drink. "The others are still missing."

"What, your daughters having a little joy ride?"

"No, Henry. The other children in Solaris are being targeted." Henry slipped the bottle off to the side. It was going to be worth drinking later. "The strongest biotics are being abducted, and my daughters were on the list. Others are being taken, as well. But with Hannah here and James gone, I can't get to them in time."

"Want to call in a favor?" Henry said. "I owe you more than one, so don't mind me."

"What kind of connections do you have with Solaris?" Jack asked. Henry had been mostly hands off about the biotic end of the scientific research.

"Bah! None of those twits. All of those uneducated bastards can keep their theoretical science. I'll call someone who can find those kids for you." With that, Henry got on the line on his own Omni-tool. The face of Donovan Hock appeared roughly thirty seconds after he started the call.

"Don! It's Henry, and I need a bit of a favor."

"Of course! Anything for my friends. Is that Jack Harper behind you? I've been looking forward to seeing him again for years!" Donovan definitely had some powerful software to be able to tap into Henry's Omni-tool from so far away. It was the only way he could have registered Jack being there.

"This favor happens to be for Jack. But consider it one for me. He can explain better than I can what he needs." He hit the mute button on his Omni-tool, looking over at Jack. "Jack, I know you think he is the devil incarnate, but most people say that about you, too. But he has people all over, and connections that we don't." Or at least ones that Henry wasn't aware of. Jack had made plenty of enemies in his quest to dominate the direction of Earth's economy.

"Fine. Put him on, and I'll ask him for help." Jack said, not exactly welcoming the Senator. Henry hit the button, bringing back on the speaker. "Donovan. I have a sensitive problem that Henry tells me you might be able to help me with." Jack restrained any emotion in his voice. Today had been quite trying.

"Perhaps for an equally trying favor in the future, I would be willing to help you with this. I wouldn't demand you change your politics or stance for something minor like this." Donovan had no change of emotion on his face, but Jack was sure that he was gleefully rubbing his hands together over the thought of haggling a favor out of Jack Harper. "What can I help you with?"

"This has been time sensitive, and started less than twenty three hours ago." That was when the first move was executed, which thankfully Nyra was fully capable of dealing with. "Children with high biotic potential are being kidnapped and stolen from their parents and families while the Christmas vacation is going on, and some of the children have already disappeared. My daughters are one of the targeted individuals. At least one more went into the Rhine River to avoid their captors, but we haven't seen any more information. I have a list of children that are currently found, and another list of children that are actively being threatened. What I lack right now is feet on the ground and manpower to stop them."

"Now, Jack, I can call some friends of mine, but I don't condone any kind of violence, even to stop others." A blatant lie. "I will try my best to intervene on the children's behalf, and am prepared to pay any ransoms to get the children back. These biotic children are somewhat important to our future. Or at least you believe so and pay the doctors in your hospital enough to care."

"One of them went missing in South Africa. Surely your own constituents can help us out and find some of these children." Jack said, bringing up one of the children. Due to a lack of advanced technology in the area, it was hard to keep track of anything going on in that country. "We both know that we can call in other favors elsewhere. Places that normally are considered taboo. If you want to gain a favor from me, point me in the direction of who is after these children and why. Finding the children doesn't stop the attacks. If we remove the impetus, then the attacks stop for good."

"I'll find their Mecca, then." Hock said. "As long as you don't care about methods, I can find it."

"Neither of us care about methods. You knew that the moment we met. Just find me what I need and I'll take care of the dirty part." Donovan smiled a little.

"Alright Jack, it's a deal. I'll talk to you soon." Jack nodded to Henry, who turned off his Omni-tool. That Omni-tool was absolutely a threat to him. If Hock could so easily access it, then he could hear about the vulnerability in his daughters. Henry, not even realizing the threat he had just placed upon Jack, was grinning.

"Friends certainly have their place, eh? Come on, I am sure we can beat the bollocks off of that doctor before he files charges on you and restricts you from your own hospital." Henry offered, looking at the door. Jack stretched, his back popping a little as he gently adjusted the straps on his suit.

"Fair enough. Henry, I think I can pay you back for all the help you've given me today. Here is an encryption package for you Omni-tool. It'll keep your interns and other problems from getting places they shouldn't on your systems." As well as keep Hock from data Jack needed to be confidential. If Jack was seen as vulnerable, then his daughters would become higher value targets than he himself would be. Julia had Asperger's. She needed him and she needed a controlled environment where she could succeed.

"Sure, Jack. That sounds like just the thing. I haven't updated my security software on this for a good while, anyways." He nudged Jack. "So, you care about Hannah, eh?"

"I suppose that she has enough grounds to sue me for actively sending her into combat without proper medical care beforehand, or without the proper support." Jack admitted.

"That's practically saying you like the woman!" Henry laughed. "You haven't had a visitor like her or as steady as her in your life."

"Drop, it Henry. You gave up mistresses and that kind of lifestyle."

His only answer was to laugh as Jack felt his world shrinking around him.

Author's Note

What Jack is experiencing is what most parents who have special needs children feel. Autism is especially felt, as its not something that allows itself to be overcome or recovered from. It will stick with the person for their entire life. Asperger's is a bit different than Autism, but is always closely associated with it. The same genes that determine Autism are closely related to the ones that determine Asperger's.

Asperger's are a curious lot. I have been diagnosed with it, albeit extremely high functioning. Due to the fact that this is genetic, some of you might say that Jack should have caught this in the creation process of Julia and Miranda. It's hard to catch Asperger's. It's a small recessive gene that is normally benign. Jack wouldn't have noticed it as there were more important things to balance.

But Asperger's children have a lot of trouble with social requirements. Some have a hard time speaking, or understanding social nuance. Emotions are a tough thing, so I'll explain the connection between Asperger's and emotions in the succeeding chapters. When I was diagnosed, hardly anything was understood about it. That hasn't changed at all. So I'll explain a bit of how I overcame the social and behavioral weaknesses of this disorder.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

December 2164, Upper Los Angeles, Disneyland Access Tunnels

Kaiden Alenko was not a happy camper. His friend had decided to get off one of the rides, saying that it would be cool to hack the train track, making the ride faster and more fun. Of course, he thought that was a fine idea, right up until Charles had managed to trigger some sort of alarm in the ride and shut it all down.

Charles could see Kaiden huffing as they ran along what seemed like miles of tunnels. Water flowed through the under parts, grates and metal paneling covering the dirty water as it moved back to the water main. All he had been trying to do was make the ride go faster than a snail's pace. He had just hopped off and went looking for a console. How was he supposed to know that the plan would work? The console controlled the basic speed of the ride, and the idiots only set it to 45% of its capability. Didn't they know how awesome it would be if they just pumped up the speed? They could run even more people through this ride if they just made it go faster.

After he set it, just to 60%, the ride went dark and the console started giving off an alarm. Their car they had hopped off of sped away, taking their way out with it. Kaiden glared at him, until he found an alternate way out through the access tunnels. They ducked into it, adrenaline pumping. The tunnel let out behind the ride's ticket counter, and they could see the door open and one of the technicians or employees coming into the tunnel. Kaiden, now terrified of being caught, started running the opposite direction. Charles just followed, ignoring the shouting behind them as they ran off as fast as they could.

He stopped keeping track of all the turns they did, eventually leaving the employee in the dust. He and Kaiden were some of the fastest and strongest in the Solaris School, and they trained hard in the gravity room to keep that up. Kaiden was 15, and already had a physique that rivaled a marine. Or at least that was what they claimed. A real marine from the base right above theirs had shown up in the gravity room one day and had taken them on the hardest workout circuit of their lives.

Charles himself liked his Omni-tool more than he liked running. Ever since he had been brought to the Solaris School, life had been a lot better. His dad's cancer was being controlled, and even though it was all throughout his lungs, he had one artificial lung that helped. That was all thanks to Solaris. He never had to be hungry again, since someone had finally explained to him that being a biotic meant that you got food. Lots of it, and all the time. They had these awesome protein shakes that you could get at any time of the day, and for super cheap too.

The School gave him a paycheck, as they were the world's first biotics. They were _special_. Kaiden let that go to his head a bit. Maybe more than a bit. But they were the oldest male biotics. They had the responsibility to make a name for themselves. Or at least they were told that. Charles didn't know if he really wanted to be much of a biotic. He liked all the new technology the aliens were bringing more.

One thing the aliens didn't have was video games. They had weird number games, apparently popular with the Salarian bug eyed alien people. The Turians only had simulators for battles. They didn't consider it games. The other races didn't have anything that really compared. So he did his level best to try to convince their Asari teacher to try them out. So far he hadn't had any results. She barely used her Omni-tool, anyways. He got a look at it, once, and found it that it was so basic that his own Omni-tool, paid for and given to him by Solaris, was twice as good.

But right now they couldn't get any signal. The altimeter in his Omni-tool told him that he was at least fifty feet underground, and that he had no signal to the worldwide web of satellites and drones. Kaiden looked a bit worried, as they were both just using the flashlights built into their Omni-tools. It was using a lot of battery power to move around. They hadn't seen any other sources of light around, and the tunnels were starting to get a lot more rusty. Some of the panels and grates over the water below had fallen away in here, and the emergency lighting had burnt out a while ago.

Charles took a closer look at the nearest emergency lighting. This one looked as if the panel for the light had been shot out. The hole leftover from the shot had shattered the glass, making a large spiderweb across the plastic. He brought his flashlight closer, seeing that the light had been drilled into rather than just shot. A power tool had done this, and not one that he could identify. Holding his Omni-tool up higher, he could see a symbol painted onto the wall with some sort of cheap spray paint. It was peeling in the humid atmosphere here, but he could clearly see it saying some sort of Latin phrase.

"Kaid! Check this out. You took Spanish, right?"

Kaiden walked over to the wall. "My mother's side of the family all speak it. Let me see." Kaiden looked at the wall, typing something into his interface. He was sounding out a bunch of the word, trying to understand the weirdly shaped lettering that had been painted. "Charles, this is a gang symbol. I think we went the wrong way."

That sent a chill down his spine. "Gangs on earth are supposed to be dangerous, right?"

"Yeah. Especially ones in the area by Mexico. Some parts of old california aren't even under the Alliance's control, too. This gang I recognize just the name." Kaiden was better with sports and physical activities than he was remembering important facts. "They're called-"

"MS-13." Said a voice. "One of Los Angeles' oldest and most successful gangs." Their flashlights both twisted to face three men, all wearing hard hats and construction gear. "Until we lost our territory in Mexico and had to go into hiding."

Kaiden stood in front of Charles, trying to look tough. "Stay back!"

The three men stayed where they were. "You boys need some directions? It's about a mile and a half to the nearest exit." Their hats had low intensity lights on them, enough to light up a larger cone of light than the Omni-tools did. "We won't hurt you. Hell, we'll even show you the way out. Kids like you die in the tunnels all the time, so let's get you out of here." Their english was perfect. Not even a single hint of spanish, though they had the signs of latino ancestry.

Charles tapped Kaiden, giving him a thumbs up. Kaiden, not really knowing where they were going, just nodded. "Ok. Show us the way out."

The men nodded, walking back towards the way they came, setting their lamps to a wider angle. The rust was more commonplace here. "We keep the water main working, since anywhere past this gets flooded with all the seawater. Not bad work keeping everyone else safe, I think. There is a ladder over here on the left. We need to take that to get up to the surface." The men walked in front of them, keeping their distance. Charles could only see the one who had spoken to them carrying any form of weapon. The other two had toolboxes. The weapon he carried was a long rifle, so old it didn't even collapse. That meant that it was from the first generation of mass effect technology, weapons that wouldn't even scratch the newest kinetic barriers.

"Hombre!" One of the others called, Charles not sure what he was saying. "Mira!" The men all rushed forward, coming to another person wearing construction gear. He was slumped against the wall, and the other men ran over to him. He wasn't moving, and looked like he hadn't been there very long. One of them lifted up the edge of his hardhat, and immediately put it back down. What Charles had originally assumed to be water or sweat was actually blood, dripping down onto his chest. The short moment that the light had shown under the hardhat revealed a ravaged and blown open face, and Charles had to hold back bile from the back of his mouth.

The men broke into some aggressive Spanish, pointing and gesturing to the body. When they did this, Charles looked at Kaiden worriedly.

"Niños." The man said. "Boys. Someone is down here and killed one of my boys. We need to get you to safety. Sometimes we have _locos_ who come down here, and they won't care if you are or are not one of us. We would like to offer you protection until we can get you to the surface. The safest way we can take you is back through our turf."

Kaiden and Charles looked at each other. Wander through tunnels with some crazy murderer, or go through gang owned turf. "Give us a moment." Kaiden said, moving down the tunnel a few dozen feet. "What do you think, Charles?"

"We take our chances with the gang. That guy died from a really big gun, dude. Half his face was missing. The only one that they are carrying is that old rifle."

"You sure?"

Charles nodded. "More than if they just gave us a map or a direction to go." It could work, but there must be other people in these tunnels if these guys were moving around. "I don't trust whoever killed that guy. I'd rather take our chances with these guys."

Kaiden nodded, agreeing with him. When they walked back to the men, they saw that they had picked up their friend and moved him into a small niche off to the side of the tunnel. One was making some sort of symbol over the body, bringing him fingers above the face, then moving them down to the man's stomach. Then his hand moved to the left shoulder, then slowly moved across his chest to the other shoulder.

He could hear some words being spoken, "_Padres," "Dios", "Maria"_ among other things. Kaiden held up his hand, keeping Charles from coming any closer.

"Wait a moment. They're praying for him." His friend told him, closing his eyes and seemingly focusing on the words. Charles wasn't very religious, but some people were. He supposed that Kaiden might be. He always had a cross around his neck, a gift from his mother before she died. Charles could hardly remember his. Her name was Ellen. His dad always told him she was the nicest person that he had ever met. She died when Charles was four. Complications from Element Zero exposure, they said. His dad had the same complications, with tumors and cancerous cells tearing apart his body. But anytime he asked if he regretted anything, his dad said no. _"As long as I can give you a future,"_ was what his Dad always harped about. He took jobs anywhere he could find them, and until they heard about Solaris, they had been living in the greater Texas area. His dad had been working as a machine operator for some of the farming combines out there.

Now, though, his dad was the coordinator for the janitor services. He had a hospital ready to take care of his tumors at any time. It would extend his life, they said, but his dad would die someday. Charles ignored the rush of memories of driving their car to the hospital when he was eleven. His dad had fallen down, holding his lungs. They had given him a ticket for driving a vehicle illegally, which wouldn't be the first time that happened. Or the last. But that trip was where his dad had to get a new lung.

Blinking, he could see the prayer or whatever it was finishing up. Kaiden was standing up and facing the men, who stood back from the body. "Let's go, Niños. Up this ladder. We will come back for him. But right now we need to get back to the Montaña." Charles looked over at Kaiden, who seemed just as confused as he was.

The top of the ladder had a hatch, which they pushed open. Light shined into their eyes, which make Charles blink. Above them and all around them, they could see a large ribbed construction, extending around them for hundreds of feet. Old water pipes ran over some of the place, and old rusted pools of rubbish were all over. Some metal sheets had been laid down over some of the area, making a small bridge to the left side of the room, where a few emergency lights still were lit.

"Welcome to Splash Mountain. Or whatever it was called. Back when the old Disneyland got frakked by the war, this place collapsed in on itself. Now it's where we live. But It is a bit of a walk back into Los Angeles."

"Well, that sucks. We just had to run off." Kaiden said. Charles had to admit, it was fun at first, but now things were just not doing well. "How long of a run is it?" He asked curiously.

"About three miles. All of it across frakked ground and then you get to the security stations. But we aren't mean enough to make you walk. We'll give you a ride back to the park, a bit later when I make a beer run. That ok, Niños?" The man with a gun said, leading them over to a hole in the weirdly shaped structure. Through it, and a pair of cloth drapes that were the right color to emulate the wall, they found a small setup in the structure. Huts and actual houses made out of rubbish were all over, and power cables ran along the top of each home, providing lights and heat to each of the locations. A few cars were parked on one side, next to the door, all of which were a bit older and torn up. Discolored metal and paint was everywhere.

"It isn't much, but it's home, eh?" Their guide said. "My name is Emilio."

"Kaid." Kaiden offered.

"CJ." Charles did the same, a name that wasn't quite their own but still something they could go by without revealing everything about them.

"Wonderful. We are all amigos, eh? Come on and i'll see how soon I can take you." He started walking towards the largest of the buildings, where a dirt space had been cleared and some adults and young guys were playing soccer. Kaiden gave a little grin to Charles, as he was one of the best players on Luna.

Kaiden watched the game, his eyes tracking the ball as it went from one side of the dirt yard to the other. Charles just sat by the side.

"You wanna play, _gringo?_" Some of the boys on the field taunted. Charles looked up at Kaiden, grinning. He had a bit of an issue with pride.

"Sure, hombres." Kaiden said, his words in their language sounding flat and without the same emotion that they put into it. But he jumped onto the dirt field, with a wild grin on his face. Charles activated the record function on his Omni-tool, fully expecting Kaiden to dominate this. To his complete surprise, Kaiden was stolen from within a minute of play. It didn't discourage him in the slightest. Kaiden came back, showing off the endurance and strength training that he had gotten done in the gravity room.

Kaiden was faster than the locals, and he abused that advantage, moving forward with enough skill and speed to take a shot on the goal. Since the goal was the back half of a rusted out car, it was a bit oddly shaped. Even though he missed, there was some clapping from the team he joined. He gave all of them a smile before switching back on to offense. Charles just recorded this, watching for Emilio to come back.

After fifteen or twenty minutes he did, with a frown on his face. "CJ, who the hell did you boys piss off?" A datapad was thrown at him, which he caught. It was thrown rather hard. Looking down at it, he could see his own face, with an amount of money next to his name. It was all written in Spanish, which he couldn't understand directly. He did activate a function on his Omni-tool to copy over the data from the pad, though. He acted as though he were just accessing his translator, which in fact he also did.

_Charles Archer - 65,000 credits, Citadel Standard Chits_

_ Human Biotic. Extremely dangerous, capture and sedate. _The rest descended into names and places that he had been or where he could be found. He blinked, looking up uncomfortably at Emilio.

"How did you piss of the Reds, amigo?" The Reds. The Shanxi Reds were after him. The only reason anyone would want him was for his biotics. He didn't even know how to use them yet, even. He thumbed the datapad, bringing up the page on Kaiden. It had the exact same information, with his relations and who to contact once the target was captured. He shuddered.

"Can I keep this?" He asked Emilio. "Or are you going to sell us?"

"We don't do trafficking. If we bring you niños in, then all of the sudden people will ask us to start taking little girls. That's what we got in trouble with and lost everything over. We already live in a forgotten theme park. No, amigo, I don't want to lose my home. Keep that. I'll take you back to the park now."

He whistled at Kaiden, something his dad taught him. He could get the attention of an entire room, his whistle was so loud. Kaiden was used to it, but the rest of the game players stopped. "Who gave you that datapad, Emilio?"

"A man in a suit. Latino. Not sure of anything else." Emilio said. "Come on, the car is all warmed up." Kaiden jogged over, grinning and waving goodbye to the people playing. Charles held out the datapad to him as they followed Emilio to the car, watching as Kaiden's face fell.

"Why?" He asked. "Why are they after us?"

"Biotics. We will be able to do it someday. Right now we suck with them, so we are easy to go after." Kaiden had actually managed to start glowing once. Then he passed out. Charles hadn't figured it out yet. "So we gotta get back to the cops, somebody soon."

"And our dads." Kaiden reminded him. "They're gonna be so pissed at us."

Charles held up the datapad. "With good reason."

Emilio called out to them from a beat up dingy blue aircar. "Let's go amigos!" He pointed to the back seat. "I need to go get some beer!" Charles and Kaiden quickly got in, and Emilio started flying out of the old collapsed ride. The seats were surprisingly comfortable. With a bit of a scary exit through the girders and ruins, the aircar emerged into the lands that used to be Anaheim, California. The ground was somewhat cratered and had some collapsed sections. Off to the left, the lights of New Los Angeles glittered. In between them and the park were a few sources of light, from some neighborhoods or complexes.

Emilio started flying towards the north, not directly towards New LA. "We gotta go around the 'Raco's territory. They shoot anything that flies at night." He explained, as they moved lower to the ground. Kaiden tapped him on the leg.

_I don't trust him. New LA is pretty safe._ Kaiden wrote into his Omni-tool. Charles finally got service on his own Omni-tool. Messages from his dad and the police started coming in, letting him know that some sort of alert had been put out on him. Also that his account was locked from browsing anything encrypted. He wrote back to Kaiden, ignoring all of the messages from his dad and police for now.

_Why?_ He wrote. As Kaiden was responding, he sent a message to his dad, saying that he was going to be coming to the front of Disneyland in a beat up aircar in a few minutes. The reply from both his dad, Kaiden's dad, and the police poured in. As well as one message that jumped in front of all of the others.

_Charles, _

_ You are being targeted by an organization trying to abduct human biotics. They are willing to pay off judges, cops, and Alliance officials to get to you. I funded your family, got your father the job he currently has, and have enabled you to continue your education at Solaris. Before you contact or get help from anyone, call me. _

_ Jack Harper_

_ This is my personal phone line. Contact me as soon as you are able and I will bring in Cerberus trained agents to protect you._

He blinked. Jack Harper contacted him personally? "Emilio, do you mind if I make a call?"

"No problem, hombre! We got a bit of time before we get on the grapevine, anyways." Emilio called from the front seat.

He pressed the prompted number, and was immediately immersed in encrypted connections. The satellite connection he had was replaced by something else, labeled _Tartarus_. His Omni-tool background even changed color to black with orange highlights, and a window opened in front. He could see, in real time and in full high definition, the face of Jack Harper.

_"Charles. Glad to see that you are alright." _Underneath the image of Jack's face, text appeared. _The car you are driving in is heading towards a known location where illegal dropoffs and kidnappings take place. Turn around. _Jack was obviously typing and talking at the same time, but he didn't understand why it would be bad to just say everything. "_Are either of you injured? Feeling sick?" _Jack asked.

"Um, we're fine. Maybe a bit hungry. Kaiden played some soccer, so I know he's fine." The new interface was doing something in the background of his Omni-tool. He didn't know the Tartarus Interface all that well. It was on some of the security consoles, and some of the larger computers.

_"You boys are going to be ok. Who is with you?" _His Omni-tool background was changing, files and items moving around. He could see something labeled 'micro-fabricator' was coming online. _Your Omni-tool is a non-standard model. I am unlocking your micro-fabrication elements of your tool. As of right now, I cannot get to you for at least eight minutes. You will be at the dropoff in three._

"Emilio is helping us out. He is from some group called MS-13." Kaiden said, as Charles was too busy reading the text to answer.

_"Sounds like a fine man._" Jack said. Emilio yelled from in front. "These boys are good hombres. I'll get them home safe and sound."

More text appeared on his screen. _Welcome to Cerberus, Charles. I am activating your combat-ready Omni-tool. Emilio plans to sell you off just like every other child who has wandered into MS-13's territory. I am going to ask you to do something very wrong, Charles, and I want you to understand that sometimes, the wrong thing is the only thing that saves someone. _Charles looked up at Jack's face, which was deadly serious.

"_Charles, I just spoke with your father. He tells me that you are the kind of son he has always been proud of." _More text appeared, and Charles' eyes went wide. _I have unlocked the weapons platform of your Omni-tool. Kill Emilio before he sells you out to mercenaries. But you have only one minute before you are too far away for anyone to save you._

Looking up, he could see Emilio angling the aircar towards an old junkyard. Enough metal from the cars that his signal to the normal network bands was being interrupted or cut out, or some sort of other technology was in place. But the link to Tartarus was clear, for some reason.

_"Charles, please." _Jack's voice comes in. Emilio was in the front seat, reaching for something underneath his chair. Kaiden was too busy just looking around, to notice Emilio going for something. Charles brought up the action menu on his Omni-tool, the menu listing two actions. Sabotage and Overload. He knew of these things from the military classes that they had taken. Overload was for kinetic barriers, and for shocking anything that the military felt needed shocking. It worked especially well against mechs. But micro-fabricators were needed to make them work, making the magnetized little chunk of metal that was launched for the effect. That meant his Omni-tool had been completely released.

Sabotage was good for using on weapons. It made them overheat and not work for a short while. His list populated again, and two more items listed themselves. Neural Shock, something he hadn't heard of, as well as Blade Function. He didn't get that either. But looking up, he could see Emilio hefting up a pistol and leveling it at Kaiden.

"Hombres. I apologize. But this is for my familia. Normally I would take you home, but there is a lot of money out there for you two." With the gun leveled at him, Kaiden went pale. Charles held up his hands.

_"Turn me towards him, I would like to talk to him." _Charles angled his arm down, so that Jack's face could properly glare at Emilio. _"Well, Jesus, I didn't think you were still in the business after that mess with Guadalajara. Good to know you are still wanted for all of those murders down there."_

"You don't scare me," Emilio dove into pure spanish at this point, throwing words around and letting his gun point directly at Charles.

_"I know that you'll just take the money and run. Like you did ten years ago. Like you did in Mexico. Elysium. I won't tell any of them where you are if you just turn the aircar around."_

"No deal, man. Not with one hundred g's on the line." Emilio, or Jesus, was just glaring at Jack, and by extension, Charles.

"_I'm sorry to hear that._" Jack said, right before the words 'Administrator Override' showed up on the screen. Then a burst of red energy shot from the Omni-tool and hit Emilio's arm. His gun sparked, and started venting heat as if it had been overheating. Emilio swore, and went for a knife. "_I'm three minutes away, boys. Live that long and the big gus will be there."_

Charles looked at the knife that Emilio was holding up, a six inch military standard knife. Kaiden was looking in between Emilio and his knife, thinking. That wasn't going to go very well if Kaiden went up against a killer in his own aircar. Charles felt the world coming in close around him.

"They ain't gonna complain about a few cuts, niños." Charles saw the knife approaching. He looked over at his Omni-tool, with the action menu waiting to be used. He slammed his other hand onto the haptic screen, triggering all of the action items. Or at least that's what it felt like. A bit of blue energy reached out from his hand, sending a shock through Emilio. As he was still holding onto the controls for the car, the shock travelled into the lower quality aircar and caused a system crash. The screen on the car went dark, and they started losing altitude.

"Cha-" Kaiden started yelling, but the car hit the ground. Apparently they had been coming in to land anyways. With a long dragging sound, the aircar slammed into the ground. It bounced some, the sight of piles of junk shifting around the car as they impacted the hard turf.

The car was able to hold together, at least. Though it landed awkwardly, it managed to level out on the ground. The pile of junk they crashed into pierced the windshield, spraying glass and metal shards all over Emilio and Kaiden. Charles managed to be thrown back into his seat, where the safety features kicked in appropriately. When the dust cleared, Charles was looking at Kaiden and trying not to cough on all the dust. Kaiden himself had ended up contorted around the passenger seat, and Emilio was all over the steering column.

"Kaid!" He pulled his friend off the chair, pulling him back into the crumpled remains of his seat. For this trouble, he could hear Kaiden just groaning. "Kaid, get up man!"

"You're dead, niño." He heard a raspy voice say. Looking up, he saw Emilio pulling his body around with his one good arm. But that arm had a knife in it. Emilio started dragging his body around his chair, eyes focused on Charles. "One bounty is good enough." Emiio was covered in punctures and blood, trailing down his face.

Charles looked down at his Omni-tool, the action menu flashing as the micro-fabricator was trying to prepare for another action. It flashed refusals to act, as he tried to tap the screen to make anything happen, or go faster. But before it could happen, Emilio was there. He was flashing the knife forward, the blade biting into his forearm with the Omni-tool. He screamed, as Emilio kept coming forward, stabbing towards his face.

"No!" Both of them heard, as Kaiden came back to full consciousness. He started glowing blue, the sign of his biotics working. Bracing against the door, Kaiden launched himself forward, his right arm aiming for Emilio. Emilio couldn't get his wounded arm up in time, and his good arm was jabbing at Charles.

Emilio wasn't wearing any armor. So when Kaiden's fist, biotically amplified, hit resistance, that resistance was reduced to a weight of zero. Emilio's body was like paper to him. Kaiden had propelled himself forward far enough that his arm had no trouble going through Emilio as if he were nothing. Only when Kaiden got to his own shoulder did he stop. Emilio went quiet, his body spasming around Kaiden's arm. He dropped the knife, his limbs losing their tension.

Worst of all were the eyes. They still moved, glancing between them quickly and rationally before his head finally slumped, taking his awful gaze away from them. Kaiden's eyes were wide, seeing Emilio inches from his face. After all of this, and the body slumped onto his arm, Kaiden fainted. Charles just tried to open the aircar door, wanting to get out from all of this.

The door wouldn't budge, the metal stuck in position and the junk keeping the door closed. Charles was not going to be hindered. He managed to get his head out the window before all of the fatigue and feelings washed over him, making him start puking. Emilio was dead. Dead like in the movies. Kaiden did it, too.

It took him a while to stop puking. He couldn't turn around, to face his friend, to face Emilio. Part of him was disgusted by the sight of everything. Another part of him was angry, angry that Kaiden was able to stop him, while Charles couldn't do anything. He couldn't stop Emilio. That thought rankled him, making him want to go back and make sure Emilio was gone. But then his thoughts turned back to what was inside the car, and he lurched, almost throwing up again.

The windows were shot out, so he crawled out completely, just getting a little scraped up. Looking around, he could just see scrap heaps and piles of old junk around, and no lights anywhere. In the great distance, he could see the glow of New LA's arcology towers, as well as the glow of all of the other towers raised in the area.

Then he saw something else, coming from the moon. It was the shape of some sort of shuttlecraft, but he couldn't hear it. It was under a thousand feet above him, but the engines were quiet. Then he saw dots begin to drop from it, coming right towards him.

He held his breath, as one of those dots came in hard. With a slam and a burst of dust, an armored figure in a large harness landed. Within a second, the man in black armor stepped down from the harness and pulled out a rifle. Charles froze, thinking about the people that were after them.

He brought up his Omni-tool, bringing up the action menu. First, he had to disable the enemy's gun. He pressed the Sabotage button, and the soldier jerked as his weapon started venting heat. The man twisted, bearing in on Charles right after. Frantically, he pressed the Overload button, knowing that this was what caused the car to crash. The soldier grunted, his barriers getting shocked. But he shrugged it off and started running for Charles. Behind him was Kaiden, and he wasn't gonna save him this time.

He still had Neural Shock, which sounded really effective. He pressed the button, and a small burst of energy leapt from his Omni-tool to hit the soldier. The man froze, whatever this was causing him to stop moving. His body slid to a stop, right next to Charles. He tried not to freak out as the soldier slid to a stop, from whatever that was. Now, he had to kill him. He had been ready to shoot him, or worse.

Charles drew back his arm, and felt _something_. It made him feel almost electrified, running all over his body. He carefully tried to focus it, but it just didn't want to move. It was all over, but any time he tried to do anything with that feeling, it didn't move. Kaiden seemed to have no trouble with his, though, so he did the same thing. He threw his fist forward, ready to accept that he would do the same thing as Kaiden.

Until the soldier caught his fist. The arm that caught him buckled, and he could feel the armored fist get pushed back. But then the energy that had been going through him ran out, and he felt hungry, tired, and exhausted at the same time.

"Damn, kid." The soldier said. "Harper said you biotics could hit hard, but I think you sprained my arm." He let go of Charles' hand, red marks on it from where he had held it. "I'm from Cerberus Station, sent here to save you. We saw your car go down, and had to use crash harnesses to get down here."

Charles backed away from him, grabbing a chunk of metal as a weapon. The soldier didn't even follow him, instead going to retrieve his gun from where he had dropped it. "I found him. Kid's got an arm." The soldier said, his gun in his left hand and his right hand holding his Omni-tool. "Yeah. Biotic potential, my ass. These kids are going to be dangerous. Land here, since Kelly and Phelps have the area secure."

Lights fell upon the area where the crash harness had landed, and a large shuttle started dropping. It was only a few dozen feet up, but its engines still were extremely quiet. Charles just tried to breathe. That was all he wanted to do at this point. He didn't have a chance against someone with a gun. Or three someones.

The side of the shuttle opened up, and dust was raised a little bit. Framed in the glow of the interior lights, there was a man in a suit. He walked down from the shuttle as if he wasn't in an actual danger zone.

"Charles. Glad to see you nearly killed our best agent." Came the voice of Jack Harper. He looked up, making sure it was really him. "Are you alright? You're bleeding."

Charles blinked. Looking down at his arm, he could see the cut from Emilio freely bleeding. Strange that he didn't feel it. As if just now realizing it, his body turned on him and decided to remind him that it existed. Burning pain flared from his arm, and he held it, trying to stop it. He just groaned, trying to keep it from spreading.

He looked up, seeing Jack Harper standing over him. "Medigel will fix you up fine. Where is Kaiden Alenko?"

Charles just pointed, back at the car.

"Is he alright?" Charles didn't even look up. "Well, you're injured, so I have to assume he is also injured." Jack moved past him, making Charles feel a bit guilty. He stood up, long enough to see Jack leaning in the window of the aircar. He seemed uncaring that his suit was getting scuffed or banged up from the metal and dust. With a nod of his head, Jack moved towards the other side of the car. "Charles, I could use your help here, if you can lift something for me."

He came around, finding Jack trying to move some sort of rubble blocking Kaiden's door from opening. Charles wouldn't look inside the car, but he helped him move the heavier objects. When the door could open, Jack levered it open, seeing Kaiden's feet flop down. He could hear his friend gasp as he realized that something was happening.

"Cha-" Kaiden started, but Jack was right there.

"Don't. Panic." Jack said, bracing Kaiden's shoulders. "We are going to get you out of here. You went right through his ribcage. Now you just need to pull your arm out." Jack held his shoulders. "Ignore it. Just pull, and then we can all go home." Charles ignored the sounds that followed, trying not to think about what Kaiden must be feeling. "Don't look away." Jack said.

"But-"

"This is your future. This is what you have to learn to control. This is why the Asari are the most powerful, the most dangerous. Don't look away, Alenko. You are one of the first to use your biotics and I want you to think about this moment. Everyone does something despicable at least once in their life. You have the misfortune of having the choice forced upon you. I did not."

Kaiden made a noise that Charles couldn't identify. But Jack just kept on talking. "I grew up in the slums. The bottom floors of the Arcology in West Chicago. My first theft was food, when I was a child. Eventually I stole cars, electronics, whatever it took to get by. Then, when I was sixteen, I was offered a job with one of the local banks in the area. I was hired to steal and recover defaulted loans. That meant I would break into people's homes, garages, and recover the vehicle or object that the bank was offered as collateral. Sometimes that would end poorly. But I liked my job. I did it well, even though every part of what I was doing was illegal. The bank didn't care about how it got the collateral, and any liability was my own. So that lead to some mistakes.

"I am not what anyone would call a Saint. Or even good natured. Most people label me as either a bastard, or worse. It is well known that I have killed people in the past, or that people under my employ have killed people for me. Right now you are probably thinking I am some sort of monster. But consider this. The Alliance military will give you the same orders. They will tell you to attack, and to kill. Most importantly, the only place in our society for biotics is in the military. Even if you try to leave, you will be on the run, and hunters like the one you just killed will try to bring you in for the rest of your natural life.

"You have only a couple years before this will happen again. When you turn eighteen, you will be invited to join the Alliance military, and you will take the option. Not because you want to, but because you have to. There are people out there like Emilio. Like the others who are after you, or who tried to take my daughters. The Alliance will promise to put you in the frontlines, where you can do the most good. So, I tell you right now, don't look away. You pull your arm out, and you don't blink." Jack waited a few seconds. "Now, pull!"

Charles managed to look up in time to see Kaiden pull his arm out of Emilio, pale faced and shaking, but not looking away. Neither of them did. Jack didn't either, and helped the both of them over to the shuttle. Then he got out some sort of medical kit and started getting them taken care of, the dust and blood on his suit not one of his worries.

James sighed, bored out of his mind. Boss had certainly found a safe location to hide aliens and his daughters. He just did not expect to be so bored. There was literally nothing to do here. They were in Alaska, in some cabin in the middle of nowhere. No Omni service, no people, and the only food was in frozen chunks of ice. But there was beer, water, and food. The forest surrounding them had plenty of animals in it to hunt, which Nyra enjoyed. The Krogan was happier just working with the old generator and some scrap metal. The real problem was that Jack's girls were bored. They were used to cruising the extranet, looking up information, and doing their classes.

Don, apparently the Krogan's name now, was trying to educate James on the way to fix up shuttles that used cheap helium-3 intakes. He claimed he could teach the girls a few things, but they weren't too interested in ship mechanics. Other than some fiddling, he did join them when they decided to watch some vids that James had stored on his Omni-tool. One of which was a remake of the Ninja Turtle series, which highly amused Don. Nyra thought they were rather tasteless and didn't have enough of a plotline. The girls of course loved it.

Which brought him to his current problems. With his coat, he could stay warm for the most part. Don had decided that he needed to learn how to use a staff, like the Donatello in the vid. As Nyra had laughed at him, he had nearly intimidated James into trying to teach him. So, out of boredom, he agreed.

"Where do you think I should hold this?" The Krogan asked, holding a branch of a tree he had ripped off. It wasn't straight, it had knobs everywhere. A hunting knife had been used to crudely remove the smaller branches, leaving an eight foot long curved piece of wood. James held a five foot one, due to a slight mistake in judging how much of the branch to remove.

"In the movie, he held it in the middle, but I doubt that's how people hold them in real life. Try holding the stick and trying to spin it like the turtle did." This idea lead to one of the sorrier sights of the day. A human and a Krogan both trying to figure out how to spin sticks with their hands. The Krogan had differently shaped hands, so he had to compensate for wrists that had twice the amount of bones than that of a human wrist.

Nyra laughed at them the whole time, finding this entirely too entertaining. The girls thought it was funny, but cool when Don figured out how to spin his eight foot stick. James took a while longer, as his crudely misshapen object did not spin very well. But before the sun set, they could spin their sticks really well. They could keep it up for at least a minute.

Of course, with goodness knew how long they would be stuck here, James had no idea how long he was going to be practicing with this. "Don? Boss might take a little while to get to us. Maybe we should cut some better sticks to make ours. These, well, suck." He didn't want to insult the man's work.

"We might need the Asari for that. They have better color definition than we do. With all of this white fluff, I can't tell anything. Don't tell her that, though. Don't want her getting in my face about her superiority any more than required."

He laughed at that. "She doesn't comment about me like that. She might like you, for all you know."

That got a barking laugh from the Krogan, who bellowed a couple times to get himself under control. "She'd rather biotically throw me around than come towards me with any intentions, Human. If she hasn't said anything hurtful or derogatory to you, then perhaps you should be the one worried for your sanity."

"Sanity? Earth women just take your money and your time." James commented. Working for Jack didn't leave much time for that, but every once in a while he would take a week's leave and go back to his house and find some girl to bring over. Though his quality of women had been improved a lot, thanks to everything he learned from Jack. Just watching him had given him a sense of timing and tact. Not to mention more money than he knew what to do with. His house was paid for, now all he had to do was get his own ship. But he was going to do that when he retired. Not anytime soon, with the way that technology was jumping forward every other year.

"Asari mate using their nervous system and linking it up to yours. So yeah, sanity. Some among my people believe that there is a number of Asari who can extract information from you, even kill you with that. But I haven't experienced that. I did get to be with one Asari, but I had to pay a lot for it. Sort of ruined it for me. But hey, you might have better luck." He looked around, trying to see through the thick branches. "Screw getting the Asari to help us. Let's find the right branches."

James nodded, a bit worried. Were Asari some sort of brain vampires or something? He doubted that Nyra was into him, since he had a pretty good vibe that she was just doing her job. Just like he was. Sort of awkwardly, the most beautiful women he had seen in his life had been the ones that he had shuttled to Jack. They were there for him, and treated him in a professional fashion. Even if both of them knew that it wasn't exactly professional. Some had been cordial, others demanding.

Nyra treated him as if she expected a certain quality of service. Just like all of those other women, except that Nyra felt a bit more committed. She also had better abs. He had glanced in the mirror a few times, just to fulfill his male curiosity. She was a looker, no doubt about it. If she had been human, he may have tried to hit on her, but out of courtesy for her protecting the girls, he hadn't. She was spending her days with them, trying to get them started on their biotics.

"Let's not get mind-raped, too."

"I think that translated poorly. Do humans view sex with fear? Or is that just the males? Among Krogan that is somewhat understandable, considering that the females get to decide if you can even come to the camp."

"Why do you live apart? Do you have families?"

"Krogan don't have family units, or structure. Our bloodlines matter, but they are static. You get raised in your clan by the same gender you are born as. You can shoot a gun by the time you're five. You get shot by some other kid or adult pretty soon after for being an annoying _grrkle_. Then you learn about how you regenerate. To make things simple, human, Krogan don't have any structure. Not anymore. Maybe we had some a couple thousand years ago, but not anymore. First we nuked ourselves, and then the Salarians raised us to fight the Rachni. Then we fought them back, and died. For our 'crimes' we were given some sterility disease that makes only a few of every thousand children survive. So, after that, not many family units remained."

"So, what's your family like?"

The Krogan sighed. "You're lucky that we have nothing else to do here but talk and swing some wood around." James soon realized that all Krogan are required to remember their genetic ancestry back all the way to the progenitors. Their deeds, how long they lived, how many children they had, and from which of those they were descended from. In short, the next six hours were spent just discussing Krogan genetic history and deeds. Lucky that he was bored enough that it was actually interesting. Though, just in case he zoned out, he recorded it.

Author's Note

The chapters will begin to be updated more frequently now that I have a steady schedule. Also that minecraft no longer is playing friendly with modded servers for profit. I spent a good chunk of time on there, and have been slowly gaming less and less over the last year. I just wanted to put this in here to show what was happening on the side, though as we go on and more characters are introduced we will have other small chapters with their point of view included as well.

Krogan I had a large debate with my friends about, regarding exactly what kind of religion they would have. Ansestor worship only covers so many angles. They and the Salarians have that sort of vibe, and with the Asari it only matters if they are born with the right amount of care and devotion. For that race, there really isn't any sort of direction for breeding or evolution to follow. Their evolution suggests more of an experiment by the Protheans or something rather than a directed force that matched what we would call Darwinism or that sort of mental development.

So, as to this story, I will be bringing up quite a bit of the trouble behind cultural confusion, and how much an Asari dominated culture has broken the other races. They have subverted the Salarians, who are just the kind of people who are short lived and able to copy and emulate other races. Krogan could have become something for themselves, but the Asari were threatened by them, and their longer life spans. So they may or may not have acted in a way to create the Krogan rebellions, and all too happily allowed the Genophage to occur. The blame for the Genophage is never placed upon the Asari, who must have found a genetic plague an acceptable reason to stop the Krogan.

Quarians are an enigma that I will address before too long. Though the Hanar I have absolutely no idea what to do about. Perhaps I might have some Hanar convert to Christianity, or something. PM or review me if you think that would be a terrible idea. Or a great one.

Anyways, thanks for listening to my rambling, and I look forward to more from you guys. I am currently reading through a wonderful story from LogicalPremise, called "Of Sheep and Battle Chicken". Updating, dark, and quite fun to read. I recommend his story if you are looking for another humanity with a darker past and present. Not to mention his Sara Y. Shepard is one of the most developed and well done on the site.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

January 4th, 2165, Tartarus Station

Ten days, and he had heard nothing from his girls. All good news in his book. James had orders to break radio silence and get up to Tartarus as soon as possible. During the First Contact War, Jack had bought a heavily armored shuttle, and then had Amandeep install all kinds of new defense systems. Missile pods, ECM, the works. He had Nyra and Gatatog Grrkl there, who should be trustworthy. He sent a message to Nyra giving her the right to kill him if he threatened his girls, before they went out of contact.

He had rescued a couple of kids, most especially Charles Archer and Kaiden Alenko. A few others had watchers placed over them during their vacation, but the final report came in only over the last couple of days. Jennifer Gosling had 'drowned' somewhere along the Rhine River. He was positive that she had been taken by whoever they were, as well as one other young girl. Candide Yakshmi. She had been in Turkey, visiting family, and the local insurgent groups had taken her. For money of course, probably to be wasted in trying to reclaim some homeland from one of the System Alliance member nations.

The ping of a priority call came in, on his private line. He checked over his appearance, correcting one of his sleeves and adjusting his collar, before answering. "This is Harper."

"Jack. So pleased to see you." The face of Donovan Hock came over his private line. Henry must have shared his encryption files. "A few hours ago, I managed to find traces of deals that had gone down over Candide. Some local mercenaries hired a rebel group to capture her, for a paltry sum. But still, the group had a much more direct account to trace."

Jack's fingers flew across the keyboards, checking over his own investigation into where the funds were coming from. The datapad he had retrieved from Kaiden and Charles had some information, but it all dead ended in accounts in the Terminus. The Volus out in the Terminus systems ran quite the system, secure banking that many humans were making use of. Headquartered on Illium, no less.

"So, who is stealing the children?"

"A Batarian company that only exists on paper, and has no official records in Citadel Space. But I don't feel like chasing through the hoops looking for that information, I instead found a ship manifest for them. None of their ships exist, except for one. Are you familiar with Quarians at all, Jack?" _Not for a decade, at least_, was his thought.

"Not really."

"I've got a name of at least one who is sensitive to human concerns. You can find him on Omega." A contact packet arrived on his Omni-tool. He didn't open it, as it would have to be scanned and made secure first. Who knew what Hock had on these files. He didn't trust them in the slightest. "This Quarian served on one of the ships that the Batarian company owned. He might be your link to what you need."

Jack nodded. "The kids will be coming back from their break tomorrow, and no other attacks have been reported. Or they are waiting for the chaos of all the mass transit that will be occurring. Once they are back on Tartarus, they will be safer." They wouldn't be safe, not completely, until the threat to them had been made quiet.

"I have a request, in return for all of this." Hock said. Strangely the man seemed distracted while talking to him, glancing over at other consoles in the room he was in.

"Calling the favor in already?" Jack said. "I didn't think you to be the desperate type."

"Normally, not. But I have to fulfill obligations to get information, the same as you. Money won't satisfy this client, and I can acquire the information through you easier than other routes. A few months ago you entertained an Asari Matriarch. Benezia T'Soni, I believe."

"If you are asking if I slept with her, I told her not until the second date." Rumors were more powerful when there was a hint of truth. Benezia had told him that she didn't sleep without becoming friends first. Jack had declined, not wanting to expose his mind and its secrets to an Asari known for her ability to analyze people.

Hock laughed a bit at that. "No, I am sure that you will go after that option eventually. Asari come in a few flavors of delectable. I want to know what she accessed when she went into the Mars Archive. I know that you are one of the few people that are familiar with the structure and how it works. I just need to know what files she was looking at within the Archive."

"The people I would get that data from would need to know who your client is, then. That is one of the most secure file networks in the entire Alliance. I helped them make it that way, as you are probably aware. If your client is willing to be open about their identity, then I can help. But that is one thing that is far beyond my capabilities." That was a near lie. He theoretically could do it, but using the same backdoor that was the exit strategy for the attack on the Prothean Archive was a bad idea. Alliance Intelligence would go to their top expert on the attack, Hannah Shepard, and then she would connect the dots and come to shoot him in the head.

Hannah Shepard was a pawn in the grand scheme of things. At her core, she was still a child that had never quite left the nest. She had never left her parent's home, and moves to new locations shocked her. She was a classic type A personality that had been picked up by the Intelligence Operatives. She relied on praise from her superiors, and in fact didn't function well on her own. The Intelligence Office had made sure that she didn't have the tools to survive long without wanting to return to the nest. When Jack had taken her in, it had been a near seamless transition for her to start taking orders from him, instead of from her Alliance Superiors. As long as she saw life in a clear coating of orders and rules, Hannah Shepard could function well. She knew her legal and physical limits, and was mentally comfortable with any action that the government dictated to her.

Any history with him wouldn't matter if they told her to shoot him. She was loyal, and even though she might feel free and an agent of her own, she was one of the most restricted agents that they had. Other, more trusted agents they would allow on leave. Hannah had been given hours in between assignments. He had checked her file when she had been brought in to the hospital, and the chief doctor had demanded a full file on her wounds. That had included her down time, according to the heart monitor in her Omni-tool.

"My client, they do not wish to be identified." Hock said, bringing Jack out of his reverie. "Perhaps something else, then." Jack was still going to investigate what Benezia accessed, but he had the rights to that information. Sharing it was a bit more troublesome.

"Only if this Quarian contact is as good as his word. Then we can talk business. Though I found a few signs that aliens had been sighted in weird places around Earth lately. If that is your client, you should warn them that any aliens are being brought in for questioning."

"Quite." Was his only response. "Call me when you talk to the Quarian. His name is She'Vrash. His last name is after some ugly ship name, nar Kib-Kib or something." A Quarian that was still on his pilgrimage. Not a bad contact. They were usually desperate, for money, food, or otherwise. As such, an easy contact to work with.

"You'll hear from me one way or another, Hock. Good Evening."

"Evening, Harper."

Jack gently pressed the haptic key to end the call, and then moved all of the transferred files to one of his secure environments. Consoles not connected to anything important could be turned into a secure system, where he could open files and risk them spraying any viruses around. His Omni-tool would have to be scrapped, too. He couldn't take the chance that Hock had any sort of comm bugs. So he placed both on the table, marking the tool for its inevitable destruction and the server to receive the data from his tool. Just the sent packets, but not the data from his own OSD.

The packets opened up, and the system immediately registered some low level intrusive files. Hock wasn't entirely trusting, but he couldn't blame him. Jack would have sent the same thing. These were just small data cycling bits of software, looking for any open information or easily accessible data. Usually they were just flak in the air to hide something far nastier in the file systems.

Jack ignored that, bringing out a notepad and a pen. Expensive, yes, but worth it to preserve any information that was on this. The data packets revealed bank statements leading to a Batarian company, ostensibly government supported. But contacting any government official there would be a waste of time, considering that each had their own designs on companies and groups within their control. Focus being brought on this company from the Batarian government would just make all of the data and targetable resources disappear. So that was not an option.

He wrote down the bank account numbers and statements. Volus secured banking clans on Illium were the keepers of the money. Apparently Haran Galactic Tourism wasn't profitable enough to be noticed by the Batarian Hegemony. Or it didn't exist enough in the Hegemony to be a threat.

More likely than not it was just a legal cover or alias for a group in the Terminus, some sort of front that could transfer their funds legally. He considered this. Money was clearly seen going from Haran to Bahraini Freedom Fighters, in compensation for Candide. Money was transferred from Haran again to the sales branch of a third party buyer on Earth. Notably, a buyer of computers and services for the Wu Coordinate, owned by Chiyu Wu. So the Reds had been contracted for this, at some level. Perhaps not all of them, but certainly the ones with more greed than most.

He looked up Chiyu Wu. Ever since her harrowing experience at Shanxi eight years ago, she had become more of a bigot. Her products were not marketed to the greater galactic community, as well as being somewhat withdrawn from the public eye. Rumors had been spread that she had been disfigured or scarred horribly during the Turian invasion, and went through some surgery to repair the damage.

He couldn't confirm that. He couldn't even confirm that she had survived. But her accounts showed activity, and her companies still showed her as being on the board. Making executive decisions, in fact. She wouldn't want to talk to him about it, but she was someone he could call. He had very little leverage that he could place against her, other than framing her for the possible deaths of thousands of Reds in the tunnels of Shanxi. He hadn't been able to find out whose bright idea it was to send all of the civilians into the deepest tunnels. The escape route had collapsed in the fifth day of bombardment.

The Systems Alliance wouldn't help them at all. The biotics program was some sort of pipe dream to them, one that they didn't want to spend money on or see as a viable way of balancing power between the races. Jack couldn't request any help from them. Their idea was to stick all of them onboard a space station that they could easily destroy or kill if they were too threatening.

He had to take things into his own hands, this time. Most of the time he preferred that, but right now he was trusting his daughters to be safe in whatever safe house James had taken them to. Hannah wasn't actually going to be in traction for months. Instead, she was only going to be down for a short while. The shot had only destroyed cartilage and a couple of nerve endings. The doctors claimed that it would all be fixed up soon. Within weeks, they said. The back issue needed to be addressed so that she could handle full combat environments, as well as getting her health back in order. Someone up high in the command structure decided that she all of the sudden had non transferrable paid leave to be enacted. Twelve years worth, apparently.

Hannah was looking at almost six months of paid leave, where she could recover and do whatever she wanted. Which lead to Jack's next, more uncomfortable task. He knocked on the thin door, hearing nothing on the other side.

"Come in!"

His steps were measured, carefully calculated to emulate a medical professional, should one of the nurses try to listen in. He was wearing borrowed smocks and a security keycard. With some scrubs and a set of gloves on his hands, he would leave no trace for that bigot of a chief administrator to blame him with. They had told him that he couldn't visit Hannah due to his 'destabilizing influence'. It reeked of Alliance Intelligence orders for her to avoid him. They liked their pet dog being controlled exclusively.

"I was just reviewing your file. Thought I would drop in." He said casually, not holding anything of great importance. But an open Omni-tool was enough to fool the cameras.

"Jack..?" Hannah Shepard carefully asked. She seemed surprised to see him. "They said you had been sent to the Citadel for something."

"Your superiors don't like me much, still. Ross still has her dogs following my trail I left them after Shanxi, probably." He came over to her bed, inspecting the console that displayed her readouts. "They also want to keep you contained. Considering that you are one of their most free agents, and most informed, they want to keep you as close to them as possible."

"What's going on, Jack?" She asked.

"I have a lead, but it is almost certainly a trap meant to kill me. I have no one I can trust and you were just scheduled for six months of paid leave. Curiously, they have already filed to have you spend your leave in one of their training camps. Any time I speak to you, I gain a large following of government observers. Nothing like when I outright abducted you, but something similar."

"What, are you worried that they might suspect you of treason? Again?"

"Well, I do plan on brokering a deal with some Batarians, but that isn't what I was getting at. I thought I was the target this entire time, but I was wrong. You, not me, are the target of their surveillance. You have something that they are obviously worried about. So I came to warn you, that they want to send you off to one of their secure bases for the next six months. Paid leave my pale ass, it sounds like they are just going to make you disappear."

Hannah gave him a long look. "How do you think that?"

"You've always been in a controlled environment. All of your fellow Infiltrators are given the same treatment. They don't want you to leave their 'protective' space. As long as they are controlling you, they don't care. They will stock all of you with enough missions that you'll always be busy or in between them. No time off, no time to think for yourself, and all of you understaffed. They have denied dozens of applicants to the Cerberus Programs over the last year, and I am beginning to see a pattern. One where they don't trust you."

"Jack, I've never had any reason to believe that they aren't doing this for the right purpose." Hannah said, still in the bed. "Not to mention that you only tell half of the truth. Tell me something that I can believe." She folded her arms.

Jack adjusted his Omni-tool's jamming settings to the highest he could safely tune them to. "I am only going to say this once. More importantly, this is the reason that Ross wants me dead. If she knew that I was fully aware of this, I would be dead within hours. Your parents were not killed by terrorists. The attack on the Prothean Archive was a planned action by a deniable liability force that was recruited from within the Alliance Intelligence Services."

"What?" Hannah said quietly. "I saw all of the files! I know more about that attack than anyone else alive!" Her voice got louder with each word. "How do you plan to prove this! Video footage?"

Jack gave her the most serious look he could. "I drove the shuttle to make sure they all got onboard the Mars Archive quietly. They entered through the Garbage compactor, which was scheduled for maintenance that week. That wouldn't be in any records you could find, I guarantee. Part of the files removed in the attack."

"You drove the shuttle? Jack that's the worst lie I've ever heard from your mouth in a long time." Hannah scoffed, but her eyes darted around, unwilling to look him in the eye.

"I still have the shuttle. Perfectly preserved if you ever want to see it." Jack sighed. "But that isn't the important part. The important part of this is that I need to tell you that I'm sorry. If anyone on this planet deserves that to be said, it is you. You know that I treat most other humans like tools in a shed. I don't respect their wishes unless I can profit from them, or I just take advantage of their weakness and ignore their wishes entirely. All of that pales to what I have done to you. So, for the record, I owe you more than just a simple apology. But before I go off to Omega to check this lead, or you go off to disappear, I needed you to know. I'm sorry for the attack. For your parents. For your life being made into the mockery it has been." Jack wasn't interrupted during this. "Ross and the Intelligence service want me dead for my part in the attack on Mars. But you are the only witness to the part of the plan that went wrong, with Grace Constantine not standing down. You are the missing link between all of the pieces. Your records are hidden, your account of the events can never be released, because officially, you don't exist. The Alliance wants you to be quiet, and they feed you information to keep you that way.

"Grave Constantine's death was hidden because she stopped the attack from achieving its real purpose, that being the theft of certain data the Protheans left behind for the lesser races. The same data that Asari and Salarian research teams are after. The data I got my hands on. My part in the attack was to get the men in and out of the Archive. I still have the shuttle and the data, untranslated of course. The only witness that has any proof that their agents were involved that is still alive is you. So, the moment you realize that, or write that down in your investigation file, you're going to die. Or simply disappear on leave somewhere. With no family and no serious contacts outside of your office, your death can be covered up easily. In fact, the only person that would notice you being gone is me. Which is the reason that I am put under close surveillance just talking to you, or getting near you. Wake up Hannah, before you're dead."

He placed a datapad in front of her. It contained the only file he had bothered pulling out of the Prothean Archive and translating. It explained the threat of Indoctrination. Nanotechnology, smaller than the ability to scan, able to influence the bodies and minds of those it came in contact with. It hides in your nerve endings, small enough to create signals but too close to organic tissue to risk scanning in depth. Nerve damage is hard to cure, after all. "Hannah, the Alliance wanted to weaponize this. A Prothean superweapon that may have been responsible for their downfall. Before you say anything, that datapad is only going to be readable for the next hour. Get as far as you wish, but the data will burn out in an hour. Only when you think and consider all of this, don't call me. Don't contact me." She looked confused when he told her that. "If you really feel like the Alliance is worthy of your time and effort, keep doing what you are doing. If it isn't, ask to resign and meet me on the Citadel. I'll find a way to keep you alive for when they send their wetwork teams. But as of right now, I am sorry. You more than anyone else deserves that much."

He placed one other object on the table. It was a small digital tag, a receipt with a copy of a certificate of authenticity. "You also bled through and ruined one of six original bunny suits left over from the 1900's. Please replace it before you come back. Let's call it the price of admission." He left that, and then made it appear that he had finished his orderly duties as a doctor and left the room. Camera angles and files would only see a man with scrubs and a medical mask, talking to a patient. But Jack had just explained to Hannah how he had gotten the men from Alliance Intelligence onboard the Mars Archive. Now she would start connecting the dots, until she would draw the appropriate conclusion, namely that the Intelligence Office was holding her captive. A useful captive, at that. The last witness to the most damning act that the government could have been responsible for in the Council's eyes.

Jack tried not to chuckle at how they would react. They would try to kill Hannah, because she was no longer going to be their smooth little pawn. Nor would she be his, either. He didn't want her to fall back into the cycle of just following orders, because one day he would need her to take over for him. Cerberus would remain a research foundation, but jack had to get other plans off the ground. He would need a director to take control of it in his absence. He didn't trust Hannah to not come after him at some point, but she would at least be able to take care of all of his things if he decided to go paramilitary again.

Walking out of the hospital, Jack shed his disguise in one of his safe rooms on Tartarus and walked over to the docks. He very muched hoped that Hannah had the good sense to know what to do after all of this. He keyed up his Omni-tool, bringing up a connection to Todd Hislopp.

"Todd, I would like to sell my stock in the main company, and buy out everyone else in the Grantham Engineering branch. I have a need for that company. When you get this message, feel free to complain and leave it in a clearly expressed format my lawyer can't stop you with. I apologize for the rush, but I need the leverage in a deal." He clicked the message to end, and queued up a shuttle to take him to Arcturus.

Grantham Engineering was one of his ideas that had finally reached maturity, the newest generation of Ashland-Hislopp's engineering program. They had been building four different mobile shipyards, and Grantham, England, was the location of one of the command modules that was finishing construction. The mobile dockyards would be ready to be sent to any planet, to do on site repairs and replacement of parts. Meant to be the ultimate answer to customer service for the Alliance Navy, Ashland-Hislopp was expecting each of these mobile shipyards to generate plenty of revenue as they toured around Alliance Space.

Jack had invested heavily in the program, as having static shipyards would only make them targets. Moving ones just made so much more sense. More expensive, yes, but making so much more sense. The flight to Arcturus only took an hour and a half, due to the high speed shuttle that he flew out in.

Once there, he walked over to the corporate alley of businesses that supported and upheld the Alliance. Arcturus was the capital of the Systems Alliance, and the support staff included many different companies. Including one that he had personally taken an interest in. The door to Elanus Risk Control Services glowed bright with the figure of an Alliance rifle held defensively. This was the answer to many of the private security problems that plagued the colonies and other areas. Private contacted security forces were just as common as military forces, and were cheaper in some ways.

When he walked inside the small office, an admittedly attractive woman was at the desk. Asian descent, but not exactly his usual interest. She turned to the door, a practiced smile on her face. Her clothes were not exactly perfect, and her posture was a bit slouched. In short, new to the job.

"How can I help you, Sir?"

"I'll need one of your finer security teams, and one of the corvettes that your company uses to transfer supplies and teams. I'm headed to Omega."

"One moment, Sir. My supervisor will be out in a moment to assist you." Her smile never wavered, even with his demand. "But I can verify that we do have the supplies and men on hand to do what you have asked for. Though I regret to inform you, Omega is on our list of planets that we cannot provide insurance policies for."

Professional. He could appreciate that. Perhaps her look was not the product of being a new hire, but simply someone used to the job and putting aside that level of detail. "Would that list also include the Citadel or Illium?"

"Illium, yes, the Citadel, no. We have a new office planned in the Zakera ward of the Citadel that we will be providing close support from. As such, we can verify and guarantee the insurance policy there. Omega has been rated as a class two world, where the general citizens would be happy to kill us and take our gear for their own means. As such, combat fees are paid for beforehand."

"I am not minding that, and in fact I would like the men I take with me to be properly rewarded for going into that place. How much for the corvette and fifteen men?"

A voice came from the side, where a door had opened up. "Eight thousand a day for the corvette. Four thousand, five hundred per day for the men. Double for each day spent on Omega or other environments where combat is expected and likely." The man that emerged from the side office was large and well rounded, seemingly a military type. "Dean Summers." He held out his hand.

Jack shook it, not expecting the gentle handshake. Most military men had a handshake that nearly crushed bones. "Jack Harper, CEO of the Cerberus Foundation. Partner in Earth First Ventures." Jack only listed those two companies due to their previous work with Elanus. Earth First had funded Elanus initially, and Cerberus washouts had ended up in Elanus as well.

"Glad to have you, Mr. Harper. Let me get the datapad on a secure line and we can sign off on this. Though we express our appreciation that one of the members of Earth First can find us useful. We have enjoyed all of our dealings with your company for the past four years." Jack raised an eyebrow. He was only included in the initial public offering, when Elanus had gone into the public market for its stocks. If they continued doing business, then Jack was being kept out of it. Probably one of his more corrupt board members trying for a little bit of extra money. He couldn't fault him. Greed drove most of the people in his business.

"Could you please have the corvette prepped for immediate launch? I have something time sensitive that needs to be done." His Omni-tool beeped, signalling an incoming call. Noticing that it was from his secretary, he sent it to the chat function.

_Currently in a meeting. Who is at my office?_ The only reason that his secretary would be calling is if there was someone already at his office physically. The man was worthless otherwise, and probably on the payroll of five other sources.

_Alliance Major Runya Ross. Says that it is urgent._ Jack blinked. That was not something that he was interested in getting near. Ross had been sacked. Officially she was dead to the government, but if she was showing up out of the blue like this, she was probably on a hunt for something or someone. Or there to kill him, but she didn't have enough evidence to do that.

_Send me a live image, please. Runya Ross is an old friend of mine, and I would like to validate her identity._

The secretary complied, and Jack's subsystem administration protocols made sure that he was not being fed a false image. The person in front of his desk was not Ross, at all. It was a taller woman of European ancestry. She had a legitimate uniform from the Alliance Intelligence Office, but that was easily faked. He would need to risk talking to her to get any more intel than that.

_Put her in my schedule for next week. This week I am on the Citadel meeting with certain dignitaries._ The secretary would get the snub easily enough. Not to mention have whoever he was feeding information to go to their contacts on the Citadel to look for Jack. But the Intelligence Office would notice if he grabbed too much attention on Omega. Or worse, if he ever got Aria T'loak's attention. Being associated with that crimelord would kill his chances at any future he wanted for further Cerberus support.

Looking back up from his Omni-tool, he could see Summers ready with the secure datapad, but politely waiting for Jack to finish what he was working on. "Here is the contract, Mr. Harper. Just sign and place a data card with the bank account you want this connected to." He looked down at his own Omni-tool, and smiled. "Your corvette is also prepared. Docking bay E21, and your security team is led by Doran Summers. My cousin should be able to get you out of any trouble you run into out there."

"I appreciate that. I assume your cousin is the most competent person you could call upon?" The man's eyes didn't drift or move away from his, betraying no guilt or worry.

"Yes. I can personally vouch for your safety if he is in charge. More importantly, he is used to fighting Krogan and other such groups. On Omega you're going to find Batarians, Turians who have broken their oaths to the Hierarchy, Asari drug dealers, and Salarian tech gangs. My men will be armed for all of that."

Jack shook the man's hand. "Then I hope you won't mind if I bring some of my own weapons on the corvette? Just for safety's sake."

"Not at all. Let me take your bag and we can get you through as soon as your accounts go through." Jack nodded, happy that at least this trumped up mercenary company was of higher quality than Vido's. Rumor had it that the man had somehow survived Shanxi. The walk through the air filtrated corridors of Arcturus was brisk, if a bit cold. The docking rings were still being expanded, to fit the needs of the ever present Human expansion. Their territory was growing, and with every new system came new representatives, and new needs. Which of course required more reserved parking docks. Tartarus had one, ostensibly for any ships they might need in the future.

The corvette that Jack was brought to was squat, ugly, and had the disgusting green color of the company splashed all around the base Alliance gunmetal white. In short, it could be confused as a Quarian or Volus ship. He chose not to comment on the sin of a paint job, seeing that the dock was full of workers in uniform rushing to get supplies loaded. The uniform didn't look any better than the ship did, but at least the armor looked professional. The green trim around the gunmetal grey was actually appealing. Waiting at the dock was a near duplicate of Summers, just shorter with a wider set of shoulders. Jack walked over to him, seeing that his armor was a bit used, with signs of being patched up with Omni-gel or fabricated parts on the torso.

"Owen Summers, glad to have you here, Mr. Harper." The man offered his hand, which Jack took. The grip was more crushing this time, probably due to the powered gloves of the armor. But it was still not excessive. They must focus on making sure that their clients are treated with respect. Either that or they had no military training. He hoped that he was right on his first guess.

"Thank you Mr. Summers. Are you ready to head out to Omega?"

"The corvette, _Jeannette_, is ready. Are there any other stops planned?"

"Not at the moment, but Illium might be a required stopping point, possibly the Citadel or Thessia as well." He noticed that none of the men looked uncomfortable at the mention of two dangerous places. Thessia was not one of those places that Humans visited very often, if at all. They claimed to be serene and peaceful, but their planet had so many layers of overlapping security that it was impossible to do any sort of sightseeing. Due to their age and uncaring nature for the hasty humans, you needed to reserve sights and hotels almost two to five years out. Which made any random visitor to Thessia limited to cheap bars, restaurants, and whatever small bits of luck they could get for any activities happening in the streets.

Asari were too long lived to appreciate hitchhiking or other such things that humans liked to do or did often. So Thessia would only be if he was especially desperate. Or stupid. Right now he was putting a lot on the line. "I'm ready to leave now, if you're men are as well. Make for Omega and let me know when we are on approach." He received a notification that he had been given a set of small quarters for the trip. Hardly more than a bed and an extranet console. The room was small enough to make two people standing in it seem cramped.

But it was a small enough place that he could ensure there were no recording devices. Or at least any that survived his use of Omni-tool abilities wouldn't be able to continue functioning. He did have the freedom to finally write something that wouldn't be noticed. He sent a small text file to one of his servers, which would then be bounced in a few hundred different pieces to a few different email servers. But every piece was simply chaff for the real message, which was as simple as he could get it.

_Stay. Stay. Stay._ James was in one of his safe houses, definitely not the one in El Paso Texas, as that one was Jack's personal one. He hadn't shown James that, but he had shown him the other four. Two were in Africa, as no one expected him to go and hide in an abandoned mosque. Even less would expect him to have a cave network in the Congo. Another was in Alaska, and the last was in Russia, nestled away in the St. Petersburg suburbs.

James would be in one of those, and Jack had no intention of showing the many surveillance cells that watched him where his most secure locations were. He was sure that they knew he had contract the _Jeanette_, and had listed Omega as a place he might go. That meant that a search would be put out all over Alliance Space. He grinned thinking about how they would have to scramble to get agents and listeners in place at Thessia. Illium, too, would be an expensive stop for them. But right now it all came down to Hannah. He had only realized a small time ago that she was the one they had to silence. As long as she was a dutiful little assassin of theirs, she was perfectly calm to them. Jack had participated in the Prothean Archive attack, yes, but he had still lied to Hannah.

He wasn't going to admit to making the attack happen. Nor would he admit to leading a group of outlier Intelligence agents into believing that the Protheans had a super weapon used to control large populations mentally. If Hannah knew all of the facts, he would be dead. He still had that shuttle that he had flown, one with pre-element zero engines. It wouldn't be detected in any scanner sweeps, and the infamous Death Valley already had plenty of dessicated hulks of cars and shuttles everywhere. He had it contained, the DNA traces still good. Hannah could use that to track it all back to the Alliance, who would assume that someone was dirty in there somewhere. But the long and the short of it was that everyone above a certain level was dirty. The Intelligence office was full of the corrupt, the greedy, and those with the knowledge and capacity for evil were hired to stop others. Of course it would go the way of the world.

Jack wouldn't have been so successful otherwise. Leaning back in his chair, he wished that he had planned ahead and bought a pack of cigarettes for the trip. He was really starting to miss his daughters. Not that he would say that to anyone. His board of directors would eat him up over this. In fact, if all went well his board would sack him in the next month or two. With thoughts categorizing all of the things that he would need, he let himself get a few hours of sleep.

He woke up to his Omni-tool beeping. He opened the haptic screen, noting that he had slept six hours. The message waiting for him was one that he had been expecting, but had hoped would come in a few days.

_Jack,_

_ The board would like an explanation of your actions. You know all too well that the Mansfield Accord prevents any single person from owning an entire shipyard or facility that can produce ships capable of interstellar warfare. Members of the board have already reported your actions, and we require an explanation within one standard week. Preferably in person. We request that you come to the board meeting in four days, at 8 am local standard time. Please call and let me know what is going on, Jack. You owe me that much._

_ Todd Hislopp_

He also had another one from his lawyer.

_To my trusted Employer,_

_ Your accounts have currently gone beyond balance. In buying out that shipyard, a hold was placed upon your stock and liquid wealth. Until you are no longer in danger of being arrested for breaking the Mansfield Accord, we are required to freeze your accounts. However, we have chosen to allow you a small spending account to allow you all due haste in your actions to fix your worries. Your bank representative has yet to make any specific statement about any spending or financial decisions that you have made in the past, as normally required by the Mansfield Accord. My law office will not be accessible for the next week, as we are on our normally scheduled break. _

_ Jack, I might need another team just to handle all of the calls and lawsuits coming in at you right now. One might even be a class action lawsuit directed at your investment into Sirta Foundation, and we are taking this week off to give you time. The bank has done all it can, and I've been put under surveillance. Please make your play soon, as you are losing money every day. Currently your account balance is short a few million credits, but any expenditure you make right now is being happily added to that. Every day you don't figure this out, you are being fined ten or twenty million credits, and you can imagine that the bank is not happy to hear that. _

_ Your daughter's accounts and trust fund is even being targeted. There is just too much being thrown at us right now to assume it is anything other than planned. I'll need your input as to who we are going to go to for enough money to pull us out of this. Please get back to me as soon as possible._

_ R. Hyde_

Jack grimaced. He was hoping that his breach of the Mansfield Accord would be noticed later. It appeared that he had somehow kicked some sort of hornet's nest, with all the amount of trouble he was getting into. Either that or his government contacts were failing to protect him. Troubling all around. At least his bank and lawyer trusted him implicitly. Or at least for a week before they would actively begin selling his location and keep their end of the liability down.

He couldn't fault them, but they would love his idea. Once he made it profitable, of course. Profit was what would drive them. He had a history of record breaking deals, and moments that approached this kind of economic trouble. But they had never frozen his assets before. That was a new feeling.

He stretched, and stepped out onto the main section of the corvette. The interior hallway was the only one that traversed the ship, and was heavily armored. It was also where the life support systems were, as well as an armory that looked built into the wall. The corvette was small, a craft that didn't have much room for wasted space. He didn't mind, unlike most people of his lifestyle. He did regret the loss of the _Talon_, but with that Batarian frigate waiting outside there was not much he could do. Abandoning his stash of alcohol and clothes had been a good idea, albeit expensive.

Musing to himself, it didn't take long to get to the command room. With the entire corvette being only thirty five meters long, the main hallway ended quickly. He tapped on the door controls, a chime going off. An answering chime followed a few seconds later, and the doors opened. They were thick, at least two inches of metal between him and the bridge. If it could even be called that. It was four seats and a wide viewport. It was thin enough to see where the boarding dock would be, but most of the view was limited to a thin horizontal strip. So the main use of the windows would be for basic comfort. Haptic screens would be the main way of seeing what was going on around them.

Sitting in the pilot's seat was one of the men, in just his hardsuit. He was looking over the haptic screens, and motioned to one of the three spare seats. "Sit down if you're bored of being inside those sardine cans. Company won't shell out the bigger ships unless you have a really big problem."

Jack did so, noting that the fake leather was only a flimsy layer of plastic over the metal of the chairs. He sat in the co-pilot's chair, and brought up the haptic interface. They were still hours out from a secondary relay that connected to the Sahabrik relay. From there, Omega was only an hour or so out from the relay there, and then the trouble would start. He settled in to watch the news, where nothing out of the ordinary was being reported. The Salarians had somehow covered up their tracks from the Sirta attack, though it was said that an illegal tech gang was seen actively trying to steal from Sirta.

Salarians paying off government authorities he was used to seeing. They had their tracks covered, except for the fact that Jack had kept them from their objective. As long as Sirta was protected, Jack's own profits and Humanity itself could have a serious market value. The larger their economy was before April, when the Alliance Senate signed the Citadel Accord, the better off they could be.

But before they signed that, Jack had to enact some plans. Economic restrictions would become Citadel Standard, which meant that their markets would be flooded by Asari investors, Salarians, and even more threatening Batarian firms. Those he was watching out for more closely than most. Elcor didn't have a strong enough economy to be a threat, as theirs focused on the mining of extreme gravity worlds and tough environments that no other races could go into.

Since he had hours, he wrote up a small explanation report to Todd about the shipyard, simply mentioning that he was doing business with another government to get premier rights to their blueprints and technology. He apologized for the financial panic, and told Todd to just trust him. As he had never gone behind his back before without good reason, that he should trust him again this time. Todd did not respond immediately, which was at least promising. Though it was also somewhere around four in the morning his time. To his lawyer, Richard Hyde, he sent only a short terse statement that he expected to be targeted, and that people wanted him gone before the Alliance joined the Citadel officially. No reply came from James, but he did get a note from Matriarch Benezia.

She said in a four page memo that she was concerned that her chief commando sent to Earth had not reported in recently, and that the honor of her house would be at risk if anything happened to her. Jack did not want to answer a Matriarch right now, but that was what his trip to Thessia could be for. Though he did not regret making the Alliance Intelligence Office try to scan anything belonging to the House T'Soni.

He then had to use the extranet for something he would rather have sent his interns after, but since he had the time he did it himself. The quarian market value was almost unknown, and he wanted to know if they did have any sort of market value. After three hours of searching through Volus information and banking clan reports from three hundred years ago, he found something rather curious. There had been an Asari boycott on quarian produced technology and items ever since they had invented the Geth. This boycott eventually spread throughout the rest of Council Space, until the quarians could only sell their goods to the Terminus. Which meant that the Volus withdrew their quarian owned accounts after they were removed from Citadel Space.

Strange that they owned so little even that far back. Now, the only way to track them was by quarian made items that were sold in some parts of the Hades Gamma sector. Hardly a full percent of the market was quarian even in that sector, their strongest economic area. Looking closer, he could see that often they were paid with raw resources and never with any processed goods. Some Volus ships sold them Turian food, but did so at a premium rate. Everything else they got for themselves.

Then there was this contact that Hock had told him about. She'Vrash nar Qwib-Qwib. Hardly any information on him, other than the fact that he was a mercenary for hire, whose services didn't come cheaply. Quarians normally on their pilgrimage worked as hired labor or technicians. He knew that some of them were hired by a human firm on Sidon, as they were ordering Turian food in Alliance Space. That kind of transaction was closely tracked. He knew that they were doing some sort of research on artificial intelligence, but didn't care too much. Any research that they did would only be in the opening phases. Actually creating the things took a lot more time and effort than the single year they had been in operation.

Not his problem at the moment. They might be later, but right now he could focus on more dangerous matters. As he looked up, he noticed that the corvette was on approach to Omega. The cockpit had filled in around him, and the men were respectful enough to not bother him as he had read through the reports.

"Would you prefer to have a co-pilot for the docking sequence?" Jack asked the man across from him.

"I'll be fine. You can stay right there while we land. We have a docking manager who likes humans. They'll give us a docking port and we'll park there. Where are we going on the station?"

Jack looked at his Omni-tool's screen, shifting it over to the profile of She'Vrash. "Lower Afterlife club. I have a few people I need to meet there."

The pilot did a harder veer than normal, and jack could see something fly by in the window. It must have been close. "Batarian Bastard. Cutting us off in one of our own ships." Jack looked at the haptic screen in front of him, the vehicle's name coming through in Batarian. _B'Lam Fre'kros._ It was a Batarian pronoun. As no one here was versed in Batarian cultural history, they wouldn't recognize the name of the Batarian behind their modern government. But Jack did. More importantly, that figure was important to Batarian culture, but was not important to the existing Hegemony. he had believed in some form of partisan government.

For that he had been stricken from the records, but had been attributed to the fall of the previous monarchy. He almost didn't notice the sensor shadow. He knew that shadow. "Bastard." He let out without thinking. "That's my old ship."

Grumbling and groaning in concert echoed behind him. "Want to get it back, Sir?" one of the more enthusiastic men asked.

"No, I'll let them deal with the problems of maintaining an experimental yacht built by a human shipyard. It was hitting the end of it's lifespan for me anyways. The loss of it was simply unexpected. Unfortunate, really. I couldn't offload all of my wine collection before it was taken. I would prefer it if you could find out who is the current owner of the ship, though. I have a suspicion as to who it is, but not any confirmations." Only a few Batarians would be able to plaster the name of a known anti-government man on their ship. Namely, someone in their Special Investigations divisions or their government offices.

Still, it was rankling to see his _Talon_ covered in Batarian paint and script, flying towards the station ahead. She looked like she had gotten a small overhaul, judging by the slight different shape of the hull. He sighed at the sight. She still cut a nice shape as she flew, even in the hands of someone that wasn't James. Their corvette came into a small docking bay that barely fit them, and the pilot was able to land without much trouble. The ship was in place, and Jack pulled out his completely illegal pistol. Then he put in the anti-levo mods. He was pretty sure that if anyone was coming here and going to try to kill him, it would be either human or non-Turian. Plus, if they did try to kill him, they were in for a rude awakening.

"We are armored and ready to disembark. How many of us do you want in close escort?" Owen Summers asked, his armor looking a bit thicker than the others.

"Just three, please. Assign the others as needed, but I don't want to scare off my contact, nor do I want the attention that heavy numbers brings me. Though I would appreciate it if you could find out the owner of the _B'Lam Fre'Kros._" Jack brushed off his suit, and took a look in a mirror to correct any problems with his hair.

"Let's enjoy Omega, but not too much. The last time I had someone here, the bartender tried to poison them. So, as a safety rule, try to avoid any drinks from strange men." That got a few laughs around, and Jack smiled. No laws to impede him here. Perfect for his needs.

Author's Note

Well, guys, the plot is moving forward really fast again. The deviant path of the plot is going to start becoming more convoluted, so I might post a timeline of things that are happening in the background in a couple chapters. I have closed the poll, and the choices are in. You guys are letting me write up a War Hero. Secondary background of being Ruthless. I'll take that and have some fun with it. If you have any input or thoughts about my story, don't be afraid to post a review or send me a message. My poor beta is just trying to keep up with me at this rate.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

January 2165, Omega, Lower Afterlife

Jack breathed in the foul air of dozens of aliens of different races getting blasted drunk. He himself couldn't care less, but strong drink often had the chance of bringing out the worst in people. He found Asari dancing everywhere, except for a couple. Those were just the bartenders, all of them in the older stages of life. Usually it was the Maidens that enjoyed the dancing, considering they had a few hundred years to think about children. Matrons could enjoy children and other pursuits, and Asari culture was all about letting mistakes and experimentation occur in the younger days, as long as they returned home smart and capable.

He approached the bar, aiming to talk to an Asari. His escort followed behind him, acting loose and in control of themselves. He could appreciate that they were very professional about it. Another team of them was outside by the ship, ready to respond if things got too out of control. He doubted that it would, considering that everyone else here was armed and just looking for work or a good time.

"Four Absinthes, and one Turian brandy, sterile if you have it." The Asari nodded, handing him the drinks on a small platter. The Absinthes were for him and the men, and the brandy was simply a nice gift for She'Vrash. He overpaid the price, and then looked the Asari dead in the eye. Unlike humans, who didn't like that, Asari body language was more comfortable when you met their eyes. It was when you spoke to them without looking at them that truly offended them. "I'm looking for a quarian, nar Qwib Qwib."

"He has one of the upper boxes, currently. Box B. Try not to get shot." She told him, walking towards the next customer. Jack shrugged, handing the absinthes to his men.

"Cheers. I'll make sure it's safe." He joked, taking a sip. It burned, and burned all the way down. He maintained his composure, though. "Perfect. All of you are welcome to have me pay your tab while we are here."

Owen looked a bit amused. "Normal protocol is to avoid drinking anything that we didn't bring in ourselves. Especially if we are on escort duty."

Jack shrugged. "Your call. But don't be afraid of keeping the drinks for later." He handed the platter to one of the men, and took the brandy off of it. The boxes were accessible from stairs positioned behind the bar, and Jack made one of the soldiers go up first. They made sure that there was nothing like a drunk Krogan or such in the path, and nodded to him. Box B was up at the middle level, and was marked in the Asari language. B was the third letter in their alphabet, so Jack approached the box third from the end.

Inside there was only one person, calmly reading a datapad. Jack calmly knocked on the door, which was closed.

"One moment." The door slid open, and a visor with a second, thicker layer was visible. Then the door slammed shut. "Nope, never working with humans again. You guys screwed me over bad last time, I ain't gonna help you."

"Was his name Hock?" Jack asked.

"If you have any brains, human, you'll leave before I kill you and leave you all in pieces." The Quarian's voice came through the door rather easily.

"I don't want or need to hire you. I just need some information. You tell me what I need, you make two billion credits, and then we walk out of here."

The Quarian froze. "What kind of _quenthii_ information is worth that much?"

"You previously worked with Haran Galactic Tourism. I need to know about who actually owns it. As well as any humans that previously hired you. They are most likely fringe elements of human society that are willing to sell our first generation of biotics to God knows what in exchange for money. I want all of that information, and then I am going to expose them."

The door opened, and a large bore shotgun was leveled at him. It didn't fire. "Money first, then the information."

Jack grinned, waving off Owen and his men. "Wait up for me here. Just keep anything from getting curious." Then he brought out the Turian brandy and set it down on the table, walking unafraid past the shotgun. It looked like a heavily modified Batarian one, most likely illegal in every part of Citadel Space. "Jack Harper." He said, greeting the Quarian. He was a younger one, obviously. His suit was a bit worn down in places, but he hadn't seen a Quarian with a reinforced collar of their bodysuits. His bodysuit had extra armor plating and support structure on the arms, knees, and collar. Strange to reinforce those points.

"She'Vrash." He answered simply. "Money first, then the information." For any race, for any person, they had a point where enough money would break down their resolve. Especially when they interpreted it as something simple that they could do.

Jack brought a datapad out of his coat, and laid it out on the table. He keyed in a code to just show the _Lucky Break_, the shipyard now in orbit of Earth. Most importantly, the current owner being himself. Along with the percentage of the shipyard that was owned by other members of the board. They were selling any stock left in the venture, seeing it as a sinking ship that the government was going to come down on him for, and then resell it to the same people who owned it previously. Those numbers were dropping in real time, as the stock markets opened around Earth.

He slid it over to She'Vrash. The visor didn't hide the widening of the eyes. "That's a…" He looked back up. "What the Hell is this, Human?"

"It's exactly what it seems. You are just the missing piece of the larger puzzle. I need a connection to the Quarians, and the only way to do that is to give you something that you want. A mobile dockyard and drydock where you can finally fix or repair your ships seems like the kind of gift that earns me the right to bargain with your Admiralty Board and your Conclave. You come home with a shipyard, enough political power to become an Admiral eventually, and I get a business deal that offers your race a chance. As well as the largest profit margin your race has ever had, ever since you met the Council."

She'Vrash just pushed back from the table. "You have no idea who I am, do you. What you humans asked me to do."

"Enlighten me. Considering the first I hear of you is from a man named Hock, and I have no idea what the fringe elements of my society are thinking. Right now all I know about you is that you are a Quarian with some combat skill, who I might be able to work with to make this deal happen."

She'Vrash plugged the Turian brandy into some slot on his suit, and a hose was inserted into the bottle. Jack just drank from the absinthe that he had brought with him. "A few months ago, some of your kind contacted me, contracted me for a job. They had some computer network they wanted my help with, a Quarian one. Claimed it was a solitary network leftover from a Quarian laborer they had hired. It seemed legitimate. So I used my codes to get access, simple deal. That was the dumbest thing I could have done. With my codes, they made an attempt on the Migrant Fleet. It wasn't successful, but they would have known whose codes were used to access the Fleet."

"So you betrayed the Migrant Fleet?"

"To the Conclave, yes. To my future Captain, I represent a crewmember that could ruin their chances or backstab them at any time. I could be denied resources or other privileges. So you can see why I don't trust you in the slightest."

"Fair enough. Most people should be at least a little curious as to how much they can trust someone. Most wouldn't even trust what I say without proof. Now, you've seen what I have on the table. If you don't want it, I can always go to another Quarian on their pilgrimage and they can bring home a shipyard and a trade deal that brings your race out of poverty."

"How much do you gain from that, then?" She'Vrash asked, tapping some sort of math into his Omni-tool.

"Debt for now, but market value in the Terminus later. Not to mention I would gain qualified technicians from your people to come work for us, who would be more qualified than our own race at this time. Most importantly, your people would have a form of banking system again. I don't expect to make back my profits for six years, but after that I will only see profit from any sort of action taken." Jack waited a moment for the young Quarian to wrap his head around that idea. "I don't love your race more than any other, but I do keep my promises. I see opportunity where no one else dares to, and in three months the Systems Alliance signs on as a full member of Citadel Space, aligned to their laws and regulations. One of which regards Quarians. I can only act so freely until that is signed."

"But why choose us? Why not go for some other group?"

"Quarians are an interesting sort. They have very little money, very little wealth, and very little political power. Yet for all that, you are feared at some level of the Citadel government. They fear what you could do if you ever became a real power again. In fact, looking back at your earlier history, you frightened the Council back during your earlier years as well." Jack tapped the datapad, bringing up all of the files he had been perusing earlier. "Your race has never been one to just play nice. You all have to be innovative and terrify the Asari. So, seeing the same pattern about to happen to my race, I must take action. If that means I can uplift yours, as well as keep a profit, then I see no reason to not do it."

"You have a weird way of making money, I think." She'Vrash finally said after reviewing things. "But I can't agree to this. All I want is the credits."

"What if, in exchange, I give you a shot at all of the ones who did this to you?" Jack offered. "I happen to have a lot of connections. Though if you want to just wait here for someone from your Migrant Fleet to come and tell you about your failure, go ahead. Though if you brought back an entire shipyard, it wouldn't matter what you did in the past. You would have done more good than a single breach of passwords. Not to mention it could be something you could apologize for losing. They did trick you, after all."

She'Vrash folded his arms. "I would still prefer to just get my money and walk away from all this. You humans are never straightforward. Always about money, or technology you want to steal rather than take the time to research yourself."

"Unless you tell me who I am looking for. Someone targeted children, and I want to find out who they are before I bring my own kids out of hiding."

"I get the feeling you don't have the credits, eh?" It was impossible to tell what the Quarian was thinking, but Jack could see that his body language was still threatening. He didn't trust Jack to keep his word at all. "But, I'll take pity on you, human." The Quarian started glowing with Element Zero, revealing himself to be a biotic. Most likely a vanguard, judging by the crash harness and fortification around his joints. "I can understand why some people like to kidnap biotics. Taking kids for it rankles me something fierce."

"So, does that mean you'll answer one question, or should I get you to the shipyard?" Jack asked good naturedly.

"Salai, no. I just hate child slavers. Ask your questions, and I might give you answers. But don't ask me to go to to some other planet with you."

Jack smiled, and leaned back. The absinthe was filling him with a nice warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach, and that was rather pleasant. "I am looking into Haran Tourism. The money that was paid to different groups for the children's kidnapping was sent and routed through them. But since it is in Batarian Space, information on the company is limited. My contacts told me that you had worked for them before. I need to know who the actual owners are."

"I can tell you it wasn't Batarian. I got paid with a stub directly from the Volus running it. Certified credit chit, everything checked out. Had to get it cashed at Illium through one of those banks. You know, untraceable or secure and all that crap." He waved his hands to demonstrate the process. "Well, I looked into who had worked for them in the past. I figured out that they only hire on biotics, and some of them don't come back. Obviously there is the ever present threat of death on the job," He motioned to the bar around them. "So, I took a closer look. Some of the minor biotics disappeared. Not just disappeared, but they were just plain gone. The few other people I've asked about this said something about it being the STG. So, last time I was at Illium I payed an old contact of mine to look into your company. Haran is owned and operated by some Salarian Dalatrass."

"So, you are saying that the STG paid for my biotic trainees?"

"Not just that!" The Quarian said, waving his arms. He must be quite young to feel comfortable getting drunk or tipsy around him. "They have been taking biotics from all of the different races. At least, the ones they can get away with taking. Us Quarians only have roughly a couple dozen biotics, and half of those are tumor ridden _bosh'tets_." He wasn't sure what that word meant, but the meaning could be a number of things.

"So if any of you disappear then everyone notices."

"One of the few perks of being a Quarian of my noble stature, I suppose." He joked. "Those STG agents like to study other race's biotics. They sent me into some base, filled with cameras. Turns out they had a bit of a prison break, or at least something staged. I was sent in with some Batarian to go fix it. They recorded me the entire time, as I found out when i got into the security room. If your path is taking you to Haran, then your people were taken by the STG. Good luck getting them back, though. Salarians have been doing this sort of thing for centuries."

"What about the humans that took your codes. Tell me about them." Jack prompted, feeling like the Quarian might actually answer him. He was more comfortable, now, and rather chatty.

"Some idiots, they were. I've still got their contact information, actually. Flew in a ship that they called Junk, or something." A contact appeared on the datapad, for an Aarav Malik. Hindu name, he noticed. He plugged it into a search engine, coming up with at least ten thousand instances of that name in the first second of searching. Too common of a name to be easily found, so he went by criminal record search. Nothing came up by that name, making him suspect that it was an alias.

"What kind of ship was it?" he asked as the search was routed through his Omni-tool's memory.

"Some ugly human model. A bit old, couldn't tell anything more than that it was a frigate. One of your earlier models. The bulkheads all had those useless armor plates meant for someone to take cover behind, but are only a half an inch thick. Useless." She'Vrash motioned to his shotgun. "Not thick enough to stop anything from boarding the ship. Too thin to be of use."

"They were designed before we came into contact with the other races." Jack said. Though it sounded like it was a Corsair ship. He couldn't exactly go after one of them when he was also underhandedly trying to supply them. As well as steal a Reaper, raise his daughters, and save his biotics. "How would I find out who owns Haran, or an STG contact that I could pressure into giving back our people?"

She'Vrash moved his hands back and forth. "Nope, not happening. The fact that I _know_ it was them would only make finding jobs harder. Or I would just disappear. And I don't want to be disappearing, even though I might not have much of a future."

Jack settled back in his chair, noticing that the brandy he had bought the man was a quarter empty. Strange to find a Quarian who was used to hard liquor. "So do you want me to find a different Quarian, someone who will look like they got set up by the humans? If what you said is true, then whatever other Quarian I ask to do this is going to be feeling the same scrutiny that you believe they might give, unless you prove to them that humans aren't universally the same."

"Why me, then?"

"You're a biotic, a dangerous mercenary who has an income in his own right. Any ship in your fleet would be proud to take you, even if they didn't trust you. With this, it wouldn't matter what the ship captains thought of you. You would be a captain, and you would have to ask for a crew from them. If you do this, then you skip all of the unpleasant riding up the ranks in the fleet, and can still be your own man. You can say what you want about everything, and there is one other added benefit." Jack started typing on the datapad, and turned it around to face She'Vrash. "I will place a branch of our bank on the shipyard. You can keep your money. You can store new money, and create a future for your people that doesn't involve peddling for what you need."

He sat there for a while, thinking. Not even drinking the brandy, just thinking. "I still don't get why you care so much. Why are you trying to save my race?"

"Profit, for certain. Also, all of the races that are outside of the Council's pocket I am interested in having on our side if things go poorly. The Turians are still angry about us killing their best Spectre candidate in generations. Not to mention the crushing defeat we gave them over Elysium. If the Asari ever feel offended or threatened, we could end up like you or the Krogan in a heartbeat. The STG just tried to take down the most promising company that Humanity can offer to the other races, just as a precaution. No, I want the Quarians to be a galactic power again. More importantly, I want your people to use credits again, and use the secure banks that we have on Earth." Not to mention the only good counter for the damned Geth were their creators. He had no better answer for the Geth, or the threat that they posed. Ten hours later, She'Vrash and Jack were onboard the _Lucky Break_. When confronted with the fact that his people would grow to hate the humans as a race due to his earlier failure, She'Vrash decided to at least go to see the shipyard. It only took the mention of perpetuating the bigotry and racism that had followed the Quarians, and he caved. The young man didn't have the experience to handle large business transactions, nor did he have the patience to try to see every angle. It was actually what Jack liked about him the most, was his impulsiveness.

So, now they were signing off on the _Lucky Break_. Jack still had a few more months before The Council had the economic sanctions to try to stop him, and there was nothing that could be done to stop him from selling it privately. The law simply prohibited Jack from owning or operating it as a sole individual. So, showing up and selling it to a no name Quarian for work permits and possible agreements in the future was akin to throwing away his life. The board of Ashland-Hislopp did indeed sack him, so he had lost his position and stock remaining in that company. More stinging was being sacked from his own startup company, EarthFirst Venture Capital. That was one of his main connections to the many companies he had stock in. WIthout that, he couldn't maintain as much. His income had been shot by his so called partners and allies in the corporate world.

Thankfully, he still owned a sizable amount of property and of course, Cerberus. Unlike his memories, this version of Cerberus had no troops to call upon, and had to hire people legitimately. That meant that labor agreements, salaries, and other abominable rules constrained the actions he could take. Like the rule on how many hours someone was allowed to legally work before it was considered criminal.

It reminded him how efficient paramilitary organizations could be. Though there were those pesky regulations about how he could spend his time as well, just to make him cringe. But most importantly, Cerberus would still be the only place to supply gene mods and tech upgrades to special operations units and soldiers in the Alliance. He would have the monopoly, and with the further contact with Batarians and others, Jack wasn't going bankrupt any time soon.

_Richard,_

_ Sell my houses in Spain, California, and Paris. Get a fair price out of them, and act as my executor. If necessary, sell the penthouses in San Francisco and New York. That should recoup my losses so far and act as collateral with the bank. Considering that I no longer own the shipyard, I should no longer be hunted by the government. I also understand that I am a few hundred million credits in debt, but that will be solved in a few days. _

_ In an uncharacteristically unloyal action, my board at EarthFirst sacked me a few hours ago. Please be a dear friend and slam them with charges of negligence. Or whatever else we can get away with. They haven't reimbursed me for the work i have done for the company. That, being criminal on its own, is quite unacceptable. I assume that they are taking bribes from other places. I was sacked from the board of Ashland-Hislopp, but that was a fair call. Send a threatening letter to let them know that I am unhappy about it, but don't take action. Save it for those more deserving. _

_ Most importantly, do not let anyone touch Sirta. That company must be preserved through all of this chaos. I am going to be smeared, but I don't care. Those with the power to stop me already know that I am trustworthy._

_Enjoy the work,_

_ Jack_

He sent the message off, knowing full well that his lawyer was most likely running on stims and coffee more than blood at this rate. His official mail server had been slammed with all kinds of hate mail, and with the current news flash of him selling an entire shipyard to the Quarians, he was being smeared hard. He was being accused of being an _Alien Lover_. Apologist. Non-Humanist. That one hurt, of course. All that he was doing was for Earth and Humanity, however. He didn't even have a company to launch a press release release from. He had stock in multiple companies, but as he had been sacked, he couldn't even do that.

Oh well. At least Hannah was alright, according to his last check on her hospital room. No one had visited, or at least not yet.

Hours Later

Hannah found her bed to be rather confining after more than a week. No one other than Jack had visited. The nurses avoided her, and the doctors only came to see her to check on their work from the surgery. Her knee was very new, mostly plastics with some cloned tissue for her knee. The cartilage had to be applied and attached very carefully. Multiple surgeries had at least covered that. It was all provided without any cost, as Jack made sure that all of the agents that were supported by Cerberus could always come back and get operated on, or put back together.

She still fingered the certificate of authenticity that Jack had left her. He would not have brought this up to her if it wasn't for some underhanded purpose. She held up the large chit, the thick piece of metal declaring that the owner had a certified bunny suit. It wasn't something that looked digital or electronic with an interface. But it did have a small slit down the side. She took a closer look, seeing some sort of glint of differently colored metal inside the gap. She put it back down, somewhat curious.

Jack never wasted any time. His last comment had been to bring attention to this. She didn't doubt that he wanted her to replace his lost bunny suit, but leaving her with the certificate was just a way of getting her whatever was inside of it. She couldn't look at it here, where things were so observed. She didn't agree with what Jack said, at all. The Alliance valued her, valued everything she had done for them over the past twelve years. Her entire life was dedicated to them.

She activated her Omni-tool, though. She could disprove him on multiple points, if she just looked hard enough. Jack had given her the research skills necessary to run his little empire, and she would put them to good use. She started with public records in her home member nation of the Systems Alliance. With a grin she found her way into their archive and accessed the record for her own file.

It listed her as _missing_. Never having shown up after the attack on the Mars Archive, presumed missing. Investigation closed ten years ago. Inconclusive evidence to prove her death or demise. Assumed missing or lost somewhere in the colonies. She blinked, finding that confusing. The investigation was closed upon the retirement of the agent investigating, and she couldn't find him on any records either. She tried looking in the Systems Alliance complete archive that was partially supplied and supported by all of the different member nations, but that didn't even have a complete file.

Her system identity code wasn't even a match. It was for an alias. All of her contracts were in the name of her alias, some boring entity who only graduated primary school. No real future and worked long hours, no friends to speak of. People would remember her if asked, but wouldn't actually know her. Personal details would be few. She opened up a new browser, searching for her next alter-ego, the one created when she was 'assigned' to jack Harper indefinitely. She had gone by Hannah ever since, considering that was how Jack had introduced her. So Hannah showed up in the company records. Her salary was not revealed, but her name was on a few things.

That was the only real imprint she had on society. The imprint Jack had let her make. She laid back in the bed, trying to think of more ways to disprove what he had found. Or what he claimed. Jack did have a habit of never revealing the full truth of anything that he said. He never risked all of his information in a single location, speech, board meeting, or conversation. She had to infer what he had left out most of the time.

She was jerked out of her reverie by a knock on the door. Without her saying anything, the door unlocked and a slim man walked in. He had a visor on his face, and his Omni-tool was hooked into his visor. These were the type that allowed the user to type with their eye motions. As well as their hands, of course. Expensive and hard to learn their use, this man must be smart and very capable.

"Who are you?" Hannah asked, acting uncomfortable at his approach. In reality, she had calculated how to kill him six different ways already, and she had three weapons on hand. Her shotgun was tucked in between her legs, she had a pistol under her pillow, and a rifle was set up to automatically fire from underneath the bed towards the door, to give her time to get to cover. She might have had a few nightmares about people coming into her room uninvited. Being bedridden was not enjoyable for her.

"People call me Tim." He said. She didn't believe him, and the slight pause before he said the name didn't lend any credence either. "I'm here from the Alliance Intelligence Office. The big wigs upstairs want to ask you a few questions. I'm just here to disable any cameras and such." Hannah looked him up and down. No weapons other than what was already on his Omni-tool. That could be a few troublesome things. She was surrounded by plenty of flammable objects, and she didn't have her stealthsuit. One of those bloody ignition tech abilities would kill her before she could get out of here. Her knee was still too new to run on, and she had to get help with a wheelchair VI just to use the bathroom and other necessities.

Behind 'Tim' came another figure, this one bearing the marks of an Alliance major in the AIO. Her wide shoulders and iron facial features showed a figure that had its share of scrapes and fights. But the cybernetics that were under her skin were also there, if you looked hard enough. Her cheeks were simply too solid for her age, and her chin had too much strength to it to be possible for women normally.

She did salute, as best she could. If the AIO came to visit her, they had to have good reason. "A pleasure to receive you, Ma'am." she offered, not knowing exactly why she had come in here.

"You might disagree on that. My name is Colonel Jones. I am the Director of the Investigation Department." Hannah released her hold on the weapons. Colonel Jones was someone she had been familiar with, never by name but by reputation. She was the top agent for investigations when Hannah was just starting out. Eventually she replaced the Director when he went to replace Runya Ross. "I'm here to ask you about Jack Harper, asyou are the agent most familiar with him and his habits."

"Not much of an advantage, I assure you." Hannah replied. "What do you need to know?" Jones had been in the service ten years more than she had. She had a clean record of solved cases and busts.

"Would Jack Harper take any payment from Batarian or Turian interests? I am sure you have heard about his latest actions."

"All that I am aware of is that he sold some of his controlling stock in exchange for total ownership of that new shipyard they were building." She was aware of more than that, due to how much she knew about where his money went. Hell, she handled it as much as he did while she worked for him. "But for him to give up the controlling share in anything means that he was desperate. The only time I saw him do that previously was when he saw the opportunity to make it all up later. All of his ideas had profit margins that were planned out within five or six years." The expression on Jones' face didn't change. "Did he do something stupid?" That wasn't like Jack at all. Jack could be impulsive, but usually it was for a good reason.

"He sold an entire shipyard to a single quarian. The payment was in services rendered and promised. As you are the most experienced agent we have on him, please explain how a Quarian was able to do something to blackmail Jack Harper into doing something this outrageous."

Hannah had to really think about that. She had never even met a Quarian yet. Most of her contact with aliens had been of the deadly variety. "As far as I know, he hates aliens. Or at least despises them ever touching any human owned object or piece of stock. He has gone to extreme lengths in the past to prevent any destruction of human property, and has positioned himself in certain companies that he expects are going to take off once they hit the Citadel markets."

"Which companies? I don't have time to wait for financial to get me a report." Jones spat, before Hannah could describe anything more.

"He focuses a lot of his funding through his venture capital firm, EarthFirst, and branches out from there. Sirta Foundation is one he has a controlling stock and is an Angel Investor, meaning that his company can't even take control of it in his absence. Medigel is sort of unique, making Sirta important to humanity. He at one time had a controlling share along with Todd Hislopp at Todd's company, which gave him the shipyard in the first place."

"He also has large shares among the shipping companies that supply the Corsairs, as well as the shipyards. He has a small obsession with controlling the raw materials going around."

"Why do you think that is?"

"He feels threatened by the Citadel races buying up all of the raw materials, as the Salarians did to the Turians after they became a Council Race. This was one of the factors that lead to their unification wars, as they had to spend much more to get basic resources brought back to Palaven. According to him, they crippled the Turian economy and made them dependent upon the Volus, and he doesn't want the same thing to happen to us."

"Do you know if he would ever take money from them?"

"Even if he did, it wouldn't be for a deal that would be bad for Humanity. At least in his opinion. He is sort of selfish about our markets. Though if he did sell the shipyard, it wouldn't be because of blackmail. He did just take down an STG team just to protect his investments."

"At the cost of your health. You were supposed to be on medical leave."

"I was only getting a back surgery and some skin grafts, nothing too intense." The rest of her injuries had been treated at the base, where a doctor was always on hand to treat the agents coming back. She didn't mention that she had technically not completely recovered from injuries long ago. She had been patched up many times, and she still had twinges in that arm the Turian had sliced so long ago. Apparently the tendons had been cut pretty cleanly. She had reconstructive surgery done, but it was a rushed job, and she had just gone into missions afterwards. So the effort had been partially wasted, as she had gone into high stress environments right afterwards.

"We have decided to reassign you to headquarters for you recovery." Jones said, with a degree of finality. "Jack Harper is making questionable decisions, and we don't want any of our agents near him until we can verify that he is not trying to go rogue."

Hannah got a bad feeling about that. Jack had mentioned that her superiors would try something like this. "I'm slated to receive a hardware upgrade for my cloaking system in the next week. I will be perfectly able to leave after that."

Jones' eye narrowed. She wasn't used to her orders not being taken as law. "We have decided to stop any further funding of Jack Harper's Cerberus Foundation, until his innocence has been proven in any wrongdoing. As such, your medical payments here are no longer provided or covered."

They really wanted her out of here. "What about Simpson? He is still in the ICU."

"His circumstances allow for him to be removed within eighteen hours. A shuttle will be coming to pick both of you up at that time. You will be on that shuttle, and will stay away from anything that could be exposed to the public, namely Harper." Without a word or salute, Jones left. 'Tim' did as well, giving her a jaunty toss of his hands. She didn't like either of them. As the door was closing, she could hear 'Tim' speaking. "Let's go see if he has anything good in his office!"

She didn't have a lot of time. Eighteen hours was not enough for her leg to fully heal or for Henry to come and install the newest generation of cloaking technology in her. She had some health issues developing from having so much metal in her arms and lower back. She waited a few minutes, and then engaged her Omni-tool. Jack Harper was nothing if not predictable in his own base.

She logged in as his administrator account, something she only got the credentials for after many hours being stuck in this bed. She just used a few of his old passwords and username combinations, somewhere around four thousand, before she got the right one. She had a lot of time. But with that, she disabled all observation on her room. Strangely the server that the observation data was being sent to was not even on Luna. It was somewhere in Germany. She made a note of that and disabled the software on her Omni-tool that kept track of her position and data.

Only after all of that was complete did she bring back out the certificate of authenticity, and drag out the metal insert. It was a very small OSD, and unfolded itself to barely fit the insert on her Omni-tool. An automatic scan went through her tool, which flickered and shifted its user interface over to Jack's favorite, the Tartarus OS. His face showed up first, and looked haggard.

_"Hannah, I am recording this as I try to get out of here while I can. Not to confuse you, but I do expect you to reimburse me a bunny suit sometime in the future. The list of existing ones are here, as well as one that I would recommend. It is owned by Theodoros Mitro, a Greek mercenary working out of a Citadel world called Bekenstein. He hires anyone that is human, armed, and dangerous. Assuming you are taking me seriously, I have already prepared an alias for you just in case your superiors are ready to remove you from existence. As removing such a beautiful woman would be a crime, I have taken it upon myself to do all that I can to preserve you. _

_ Irony not understated, I have one shuttle that was made before Element Zero was originally introduced. It was the shuttle that was used to get the team into the Mars Archive. The extraction team is still in there, if you are looking for any further evidence for your case. Though at this point that might just get you killed faster if you keep digging. I do promise to tell you everything, and for what it is worth I am sorry you got caught up in this mess. It was the partial product of my actions. As such, here are the coordinates to the old shuttle with updated ownership certificates, and an updated ECM suite. _

_ The new OS installed onto your Omni-tool has scrubbed any following and tracking programs from your system, for your sake. Your weapons and armor are all in a locker on deck 3, and the key to that locker is always in a small closet on deck 2.5, which is accessed by the doctor's express elevator. Just press the buttons for floors 6, 2, and 5 at the same time, followed by pressing 1 three times in quick succession. This will take you to a small nook with everything you need for your alias. Unfortunately, the black hair dye is a must. I do apologize, I do love the red, but where you are going, you will be Allison Gunn, hired mercenary and deadly specialist. No morals, no binding oaths, just in it for the credits. I also took the liberty of placing a few hundred thousand citadel credits and a hundred thousand batarian credits in the pile, just in case. _

_ A new generation 3 catsuit is there for you as well. As far as I understand it, the armor is now equipped with better plating at the joints, as well as Omni-gel insertion ports. It can be fixed on the run, especially if you get incinerated or such. It also includes a deployable hood, for protection against a vacuum. Keep the old catsuit, of course. It looks better in some ways, as it doesn't have as much utility hardware. Any spare parts you can always ask for through any of my backdoor accounts. _

_ Soon, there will be at least one human bank out in the Terminus, located onboard a shipyard that I just sold to the Quarian migrant fleet. You can make purchases through that. Deposit your money with a Volus, though. That will protect you more than you know. Especially if you chose to go through Janus Vol banking on Illium. They are rather discreet, or so I have heard. _

_ I want to make this clear. I don't want to phrase any of this as an order. For most of your life, your decisions have been made for you. I admit to manipulating you to become the first Cerberus agent, but that had benefits for both of us. You would have disappeared much sooner if it wasn't for that. I don't want you to be a mindless soldier or minion. More than anything I would be happier if you were your own entity, be it some information broker or just a warlord in the traverse. As long as you pick your path, that is fine with me. It would be hypocritical to try to tell you to follow any morals or ethics after what I have done. _

_ If you need anything at all, feel free to ask. Or just pay for it. You have money in lots of places, courtesy of your continuing salary. Though I would love to hire any crew that you put together for a small venture. It will involve combat, certainly. So hire some good people. Guns are cheap in the Terminus. Lives are cheaper. Just do me a favor and stay alive. _

The message ended, and then displayed all of the files mentioned. Digital keys to some shuttles if she preferred to use something better or worse. Her new papers, identity, and Citadel papers. Apparently she was from Elysium, and had no claim to any property other than whatever she carried. Though the amount of money in her name was staggering. If she didn't know Jack, she would say that he had been hiding his money with her. But he for some strange reason was just throwing money into her accounts, putting it all in her name. She blinked at the combined numbers, with somewhere around twenty five million credits in her name.

In assets, cash, and weapons, she owned _twenty five_ million. She has to keep a shudder from running through her body at the thought. She had no idea how to even manage that. Well, maybe she did, though it had been years since she had been handling any money. Not to mention that this was unlike anything she had done in the past. She was used to stocks, investors, and boards of chairmen vying over the funding. Controlling this much independently was just alien to her.

But she didn't feel comfortable with the idea that Jack chose this for her. Preparing her an alias was nice, and giving her money was kind enough. But he did want her to make her own decisions. Her superiors obviously didn't value her opinion. They viewed all of the agents like numbers or tools in their hands. They only mattered if they were crippled or blowing your cover. The agents were something that they didn't want to talk about or address.

She just rested her head for a moment, considering what to do. If Jack's files were correct, then the Alliance were the original people who wanted the files taken out of the archive anyways. But the archive had to publicly list to the Board of Investigation on the Senate what files were accessed or used. It struck her that many of the files that she had been given orders to recover over the years had been on the list of files that jack had listed as the ones they had been searching take from the Mars Archive.

Curious, she opened up one of the file listings in Jack's files. _Weapon:Crucible_ - These files detail the Prothean Superweapon Crucible. It is abundantly clear that it is meant to be used in conjunction with the Citadel. Removal of these files was labeled as critically important. Files are now gone, lost, or completely removed by a possible third party. She shrugged at this. Superweapons weren't something that she worried about. She pressed another one, bringing up a listing.

_ Organic Repair Gel - _Gel that causes clotting of blood, repairs damaged biological systems. Contained in some sort of spray bottle or injection tablet. Once translated, this should be capable of healing any wounds. _Sirta_. Jack's work was presented cleanly right there. Sirta Foundation was made from one of the stolen files. She blinked, wondering how the files were lost in the first place.

The Mars Archive was the most secure facility in Alliance Space. It had defenses that were able to destroy any ship trying to land. Interior defenses were developed around Prothean designs, and didn't offer much in terms of cover but had a lot of utility. She wasn't sure if it was even possible to steal from it, but considering she was the Alliance expert on it, she figured it was possible.

Coming through the garbage compactor tunnels in full armor sounded terrifying. They couldn't have turned off the compactor to allow them to get by it naturally, and therefore had to risk getting crunched into small bits. Not only that but they had to keep their shuttle parked at the exit for the getaway. It was just too unreal to be possible in her mind, even though it fit the details and limits for the operation. Four men in full armor getting through the security stations, airlocks, and soldiers to try to hack the archive. They had been partially successful when Grace decided to step in and lock down the system and get everyone killed.

She sighed. She had no guarantee that Jack was telling any degree of truth, other than hinted possibilities. Though she did have the location of the shuttle. The getaway and insertion shuttle. Something that would have hard evidence, something to prove the entire case right. But at the same time, it would most likely show that Jack Harper was a member of the team, or at least involved on a level that would get him put away for life. Which meant that all of the things he had given her he knew would implicate him.

All of which would lead to her still being worried about her superiors, and if she closed the case then they would have even more reason… to silence her. If she was the only one who knew that the perpetrators of the worst criminal act in history were in fact just greedy members of the government, then some of them might still be around. Jack was, and he hadn't been killed. Though that wasn't very prudent evidence.

She wanted to yell at Jack all over again. None of the things he gave her made sense. Tactically, you don't hand evidence that damns you to the person investigating your case! It just wasn't logical to give her the information she needed to frame him for the entire attack. But she didn't want to bring him in. Jack Harper was a man with goals, but the people behind this obviously had different ones or were in agreement to work with Jack. She would need to get a full confession from him.

Which wouldn't happen if she got killed or put in jail by her superiors for having contact with the man. She sighed, considering exactly how she was going to do this. The only way to get the full confession was to commit treason and walk away from her duties. Or at least the only way to meet with Jack again without being under threat of surveillance or intervention from her superiors. Though it wasn't the first time she had been on her own. When she had been 'assigned' to Jack, that had been some of the busiest time of her life. But at the same time it was some of the happiest. She had gotten job offers from dozens of billionaires, companies, and Jack sent her a mock one to be his prostitute at one point. Work humor, she supposed. It had been funny at the time, though.

She couldn't get the information she needed under the thumb of her superiors, that was for sure. They might even impede her research if they felt personally threatened. Or just make her disappear, if Jack was right about her being under scrutiny.

"That's it." She said, out loud. "Can't do this if they are going to just ship me off to somewhere cold like Canada." That was the worst place to be stationed. Entire sections of that country were still lawless from the troubles in the 2000's, and the Intelligence Office was assigned with making sure the gangs and mercenaries stayed calm and not dependent upon external sources. Not to mention the fact that it was cold. The training for planets rated at more than minus fifty on the kelvin scale was in the northernmost part of the country. Survival was not guaranteed, or likely if you failed to follow orders.

She packed her guns into her shirt. Her armor wasn't here, as Jack had placed that in a locker. So all she had was some medical smock, three guns, and her Omni-tool. She just had to sneak out of the highest rated hospital in the system without causing an alarm. Piece of cake. She set all of the machines to loop the data received from her a few days ago, and the security feeds to do the same. She liked the Tartarus OS. It streamlined all of the programs. Either that or it started in administrator mode. With a small grin, she waited for an opening and activated her cloaking device. It was remarkably easy to find the elevator that Jack had mentioned, and even easier to get to the level that Jack had sectioned off.

She thought for a moment about how her superiors would take this. They had forgave her before, after she worked with Jack. If he was doing things that were completely innocent, a thought that caused her to laugh a little bit, then perhaps they would forgive her again. Hell, if she proved he was innocent, or just continued her work, then they would maybe pay a bit more attention to her. Either way, she wasn't going to figure out everything here.

February 2165, Omega, Upper Afterlife Bar

Owen Summers could be seen from his private booth easily. He was wearing non descript armor, without the dark green highlights that showed his allegiance to Elanus Risk Control Services. More importantly, he was carrying a very expensive piece of equipment. One of Jack's more useful possessions, a mobile hologram generator, it could display his form with no delays. More importantly, it was on a point to point system, and virtually unhackable as long as you weren't trying to transmit through a solar flare or a solid wall of lead.

Jack was safely in a private booth, with his Omni-tool slaved to the hologram device. It was on it's minimal mode, where only the display would light up, instead of the gigantic orange haptic screen that normally showed up. It was like painting a target on yourself when you had the full luminosity turned up. So in the minimal mode, only the edge of the display screen was active. It didn't light up his entire booth, and with one of his security men across the table from him, it didn't appear random to be talking. The other members of the team were all around the area, in defensive positions. Jack was really cutting it dangerously, today.

With the help of Owen, a few hundred credits, and one bribed waitress, the device was delivered to the proper table. Jack tracked the movement of the device as it moved directly underneath him, down to the booth two floors below his own. Using Owen as a repeater, the signal went between his Omni-tool and the hologram projector without breaking or being diffused. Or being disabled by any wide angle jamming equipment. It was surprising how many different sources of that there were. As long as the music and the vending machines were not jammed or hacked, the management didn't mind.

He could almost guess the reaction to the device as it was brought to the table, with an 'on' button labeled in Batarian. He waited for a good long minute as some sort of debate occurred. Then, with a solid beeping noise, the Omni-tool activated, sending the image of his head to the hologram device.

"Greetings, Balak N'Dorme. You are a very difficult man to get a hold of." Jack said in perfect Batarian.

"I find it curious to be given such courtesy by a member of a lesser race," A Batarian face leered. He was surrounded by heavily armed guards. There was no way that Jack would have been able to meet with him directly. "What are your intentions, cretin?" Batarians were mostly predictable. Unless they were reformists in disguise. Then they couldn't be guessed.

"Humanity just recently started training its first biotics. Predictably, the Asari offered us assistance in creating our first generation of biotic implants. As you were the last race that they assisted, I was hoping to get some reliable information on how well that worked for your race."

"Then you are aware of my position in my government, then. I'll have to kill whoever informed you." Jack grinned. That was more thanks to what his memories of the future told him. Along with many informant's lives lost to get upper echelon names and faces.

"I can offer you quite the deal, in exchange for that information. Our governments are more alike than they seem, in relation to the Citadel. The Council feels that we are both threats to their continued supremacy."

"So you come to your betters for aid? Commendable, for a Human." This was why most people wanted to shoot Batarians on sight. Their entire culture was broken down into who was better than whom, and how to excel and succeed before those betters could find you and take that for their own. The mentality that existed used any debasement of others as the best defense against predation from those sources. To most humans, everyone was considered equal, to have a voice. In effect, Jack was being given a compliment by the Batarian, though a little roundabout.

"Commendable but necessary. I am aware that your first generation was assisted in their creation by the Asari, and yet I can't find any evidence that any of them survived to maturity or became legendary in status among your people, like your current generation of biotics are."

"Any information of such has been sealed by the Hegemon. One such as He cannot be ignored."

"Yet the Asari designs have never been in your biotic amps since. Why is that?"

"Asking the right questions is merit. To you, a lesser race, I would simply say to avoid any contact with their Serrice Company. They won't help you."

Jack grinned, letting his teeth become fully visible. In Batarian society, it was not something that was generally appropriate, as visible teeth were a sign of hostility. Humans smiling never made them very happy, as a result. "So are Batarian amps capable of working on humans? Since one of your sponsored legitimate businesses paid for the kidnapped biotics, I suppose that as the director of the Sprawler program that you would be aware of such."

"I would never dirty my hands with the biotics of lesser races, Human. My hands are for the shaping of children better than anything you could produce. Though I a demand to know which company you would make such a claim of."

Good. He was curious. "Haran Galactic Tourism. They paid for a few of my better biotics to be taken. In the interest of my government, I would be willing to broker a deal with you regarding the creation of biotic amps, if it is truly found that you are innocent in this matter."

"While I would prefer to not dirty my hands in your people, the Hegemon has expressed some interest in you. I can promise our innocence, Human. Whether we are willing to trade such valuable technology to you will have to be decided by my betters."

"Would you prefer that my race becomes another Council sycophant? Another race that sees your people as nothing more than pirates and slavers? The only way that humanity will become less of a sycophant to the Council is through change. Change that you, as the director of the Sprawler Program, can offer. If your betters wish us to continue being at ods with each other time and again, then we will eventually go to war."

"A war that we would relish, and enjoy. We would prove our superiority over you." He said, as if stating fact.

"But after the war, when the Turians come in and sweep us under their feet, after we both are weakened enough that even the Volus will be able to fight us, can you still say it will be a good thing? Every prediction of war between our two peoples ends with us being weaker. My government might not make such a decision if yours is willing to work with us at basic levels. More importantly than anything else, Either one of us can take the Turians to a stand still, but we cannot defeat them. Together is the only way that we could take them on. Consider that, if you would."

"I will, _Human_." The way he pronounced human this time was as one speaking to someone just barely under their own ranking, and not that of one at the bottom of the lowest caste. "Your name is Harper, yes?"

"Guilty, I suppose. You are Balak M'Dorme, the conservative socialite? You spend every few weeks on Omega, doing important business with Volus and Salarian Element Zero vendors, and after this, most likely to meet with me on a more regular basis, all for the sake of profit, glory, and vengeance for crimes unsettled."

"Of what crimes do you speak of? My government has done nothing to yours." Lies, of course. The fight between them was just being solved with deniable elements so far. Humanity just was the late comer to this game. But as long as the Batarian was thinking about that, Jack would get no where with him.

"Crimes committed by our mutual watchdog, the Turians. Or the Salarian STG, who would be happy to grind our combined cultures under their boot." He shrugged in a way that the Batarian would find pleasing, rather than offensive. "The tension between our two governments is simply the flexing of arms and the rattling of weapons. It will pass, as we find ways to tolerate each other."

Balak waited a long moment. "I will converse with those of worthy nature regarding your ideas. If they are found to be of interest, we shall conduct business. Here, where our governments don't have the threat of certain observers." In other words, where either side could back out if things went awry. Perfectly acceptable to him.

"This sounds like the start of a promising endeavor. Blessings of your ancestors upon you, and your house." Jack said, offering a Batarian upper caste version of thank you, and go away before we kill each other.

"A Human with some respect. Perhaps there is promise in this." Jack closed the link as the Batarian smiled, while showing his teeth. Oh yes, he would use the hologram projector again. With a text message to Owen Summers to have one of the waitresses retrieve the projector and to go hide it somewhere. Due to security concerns, Owen would have to take a civilian transport back to Elysium, where he would meet back up with them later. Jack would wait with his security forces here in the meantime. He had other people to meet with, like for example whoever was flooding the upper areas with Migrant Fleet Marines.

He could see four of them already in the booths, weapons ready and bodies tense. They were staying away from the Krogan in their booth, as would be at least logical if not necessary. Behind the marines came another figure, this one wearing a more stylized suit. He was tall, and carried a long rifle that had an Omni-tool fabricator built into it. That meant that whoever this was, they could launch tech abilities from the front of their weapon rather than from the wrist. Humanity had decided that they needed to focus on what was easy to produce and maintain rather than experimental weapon styles like that one. Quarians weren't so limited, though.

Jack let the booth open, the door revealing him and the single guard he had. The other four were scattered around, and had a booth of their own across the way. As long as no shots were exchanged that could hit any employees, things were going to be alright. Attracting Aria T'loak's attention was just a poor life decision for anyone.

The Quarian walked in with two of his marines, their weapons out and ready to blast him. He didn't particularly care if they had itchy trigger fingers, as he was someone they couldn't afford to piss off. The bluster and intimidation didn't work for the Krogan he met with and hired, and it wouldn't work for a Quarian either. Perhaps for a Batarian who was one of the heads of their Special Investigation Services. That would make him think twice.

"Thank you for coming. I trust you got my message?"

"You risk quite the expense, giving us that ship. I had to come, even if your race has tried to assassinate me before."

"Jack Harper." He said, offering his hand to the Quarian. After a long hesitant second, the three fingered hand met his.

"Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib-Qwib. Why have you invited me here?" The Quarian's body language was at calm or rest, but Jack knew better. As the leader of a race that could hide any facial features they wanted, he expected the Admiral to be able to control his body language to prevent anyone guessing what he was feeling.

Jack had an empty cup of wine in front of him and a smoking cigarette butt resting in a small part of the table for their disposal. "I wanted to apologize for any assumed threats of violence, on our part. Those that tried to access the Qwib-Qwib were after technology, not your life. They feel threatened by the Batarians and Turians, and know that your race is quite capable at dealing with such opponents. I have no intention of asking for that."

"I don't doubt that you humans will ask for such in the future, though. Your race has many things that we would pay good money for, especially trade products. With the _Lucky Break_, you will have the fabricators to do such. Your people are naturals with any Prothean-based technology, so I doubt I have to send any technicians to explain anything to you. But what I want to offer is something that your race hasn't had in centuries." Jack brought out his Omni-tool, and activated it, displaying figures onto the table. "Your people haven't been allowed to store any money in any Volus owned or co-opted banking systems. Meaning that stocks, capital, and basic trade rights had been denied to you. I have an offer to possibly change that."

"The Quarian fleet needs no assistance in our trade rights. Nor do we need other races poking into our business." Quarians were also stubborn and fearful of change. Any change that could affect their entire culture was something they feared.

"What about if I told you that there is a bank that can fund your fleet. More than just that, but a company that would pay full wages to any Quarians that came to work for it. I can offer work permits that allow for Quarians to work in any company I have a share with in Human Space. If you want to have Quarians on Pilgrimage find safe work, then I can offer at least that much. Now that you have the _Lucky Break_, you'll have need for raw materials, processed goods, and trained labor for those machines. Not to say that you wouldn't have trained engineers, but this might be a faster way of getting your shipyard up and running."

"You want to offer my people legal work permits? Materials? Pay? Or are you just trying to take away our young people?"

Jack laughed at that. "I'm here for profit. Your people represent the largest non aligned trade partner that exists in the Galaxy. If you had a source for raw materials and processed goods, then your fleet wouldn't be so pressed for them. If anything, I want to create an economic link between my companies and your fleet, where I can acquire skilled labor and you can start becoming a presence again. Possibly selling your technical work all across Council Space. Your race has the best technicians, yet the smallest market value. What is on this datapad is a chance to change that, where your people grow an become more powerful, less dependent upon what you can scrounge, and able to fix your ships. In return, I see profit in every deal we would do in Human Space. You find a market for your products, while I facilitate that market. Unfortunately, we can only do this if you have the Admiralty Board sign off on that. I need to establish this before my government signs the accord that allows them to become a full member of the Council Races."

"Before it becomes illegal to do this?"

"Exactly. If the Council knew what I was up to, they would try to stop me. But I can see a pattern developing. The Council are control freaks, they can't possibly let anyone grow more powerful than they themselves are. They stopped your race from doing so, and are in the middle of doing the same to the Batarians. We are about to see a rush of foreign investors overtaking our markets, buying out our stocks, and driving our prices down so that we become dependent upon their goods. I _need_ a better option. Earth will buy Quarian made Omni-tools in spades. Salarian models simply do not compare. Not to mention, it would feel rather good to find a trade partner that isn't out to take control of my entire race."

Zaal'Koris was quiet at that. "She'Vrash said you were a madman. But I think that he might be incorrect. You are far worse than a madman. But damned if I don't want to throw down something in the Salarian's faces. I still hate you. I can't stand your aggressive expansion and arrogance in claiming anything you can. But I can respect you coming to seek us out. The Admiralty Board will have an answer for you within days. I would recommend buying up Quarian foodstuffs. We prefer to go places where we can find that kind of support."

Jack nodded. Then he offered his hand again, for a handshake. Zaal'Koris gripped him by the wrist, in a surprising move. The man had a lot of strength in those three digits. "Quarians grip at the wrists. It is considered quite daring to offer someone to touch you in my culture. Keep that in mind when my nephew comes to your company. I will try to send some of our more prepared younglings." He held his grip, not letting Jack go. "But if any of them come back with stories of slave labor or contracts like the Asari make people suffer through on Illium, then no more will go. You'll have to get your profit without taking advantage of them."

"Fair. If they aren't making any money, then they aren't spending any. If anything, I am going to set them up with work permits and visas that allow them to make the same that a senior technician makes. Fourteen thousand credits per month. If that doesn't get them spending, I don't know what will."

Zaal'Koris must have had some sort of look on his face, but his body didn't reveal it. "I left on my Pilgrimage with four hundred and sixteen credits. When I came home, I brought with me a small patrol boat from the Turian fleet. If you are going to pay us honest cash like that, then we are going to start seeing some better Pilgrimage gifts."

"I'll invite you to the celebration when the first Quarian millionaire is announced."

"Don't speak too soon. The rest of the Admiralty and the Conclave have to agree to this. Until they do, you'll see no Quarians approaching your Systems Alliance." Jack let go of his arm, giving a friendly smile. He couldn't remember if Quarians found teeth to be threatening or not. So he just kept his smile without bearing any of his teeth.

As the Quarians left, he grinned. His guard just looked over at him with some sort of questioning look. "Go get a bottle of anything, they'll call us before we get back to Earth." The guard nodded, and Jack started walking back to the _Jeanette_. As he walked back, he made sure to avoid any attention or risk anything following him back. One ratty brown cloak helped with that, as well as the smell that followed. He would need a shower afterwards, but all that people would see was an old drunk leaving the bar. He wasn't bothered on his way back to the docking bays, and was able to wait in one of the regrettably dingy public bathrooms long enough for one of the crew to come with another layer of disguise to get him aboard, namely one of the company armors.

He sent a text mail to Todd, with a copy of the information on the datapad that he had forwarded to the Quarians. _Dear Todd,_

_ I have here a deal that I just marketed and sold to the Quarians. As you might have guessed, I sold the shipyard to them for profit. We have the other three shipyards, and they have no trained technicians. As such, there is only one place they will come to learn their trade. They will be bringing their pilgrims, or their children on the cusp of adulthood. The pilgrim is required to earn a certain amount of money or materials before bringing this back into their fleet. I have forwarded them to Ashland-HIslopp, understandably. Quarians are used to sixteen hour workdays, and are all trained in zero gravity work. All are comfortable with Prothean technology, and can do more with scrap metal than any human technician. Your first wave of new hires are coming to meet with me to discuss being hired for honest wages. Each will be spending all of their credits on raw materials sold by your company, meaning that each new hire won't have a family to pay for or worry about, and represents chances for growth. _

_ Put me back on the board or else the Quarians will go to Markov Heavy Industries. I am taking a very calculated risk, to the point that we will become the only people trading with the monopoly that is the Quarian market. Their Omni-tools will be cheaper and more effective than anything the Salarians will try to sell us. Using Ashland-Hislopp as a gateway, we will be the source of the next big product. Any losses from selling the shipyard will be made back up seventeen months to twenty two months. My personal losses will take some more time to recover from, but the potential for growth into a new market is real. Most importantly, it would be a monopoly, considering that after April, we will have joined the Citadel Council, and any further economic binding to the Quarians cannot be sanctioned. _

_ Just tell the board that I have secured an entire market for our goods, and it will be one that only we control. That's what I am offering. No press conference needed, unless of course you would like to apologize in public for lambasting me. I expect that you'll have some form of reply for me as soon as your analysts get back to you on this. I'm on my way back to Earth, and should be free to have lunch or meet with the board in a couple of days._

_ Jack_

He finished sending that, and gave a fine grin. He may have smelled like death warmed over, but it appeared that he had secured his future. His Omni-tool gave a ping, as one of the search queries found something. He always had a few running in the background, searching for relevant data or news stories. He clicked on the query, finding that it had pulled up a small news feed. He smiled at the sight, a small story about Haran Galactic Tourism being investigated by the Special Investigations Service. He even laughed a little bit.

That concluded his work. Time to pick up his children. "Summers! I have some coordinates for you to take us to!"

"No problem, Sir." Was the prompt reply, "Send them up to the main computer and we can get started."

"More like getting finished. It's time to go home." He gave them the coordinates for where the gunship that James had taken so long ago had been parked. He wouldn't give them the direct coordinates of his kids, that was for sure. He paid them, certainly, but that did not mean that he trusted them.

One last alert appeared on his feed. It brought a grin to his features as he saw that Hannah was on her way out. She had accessed one of the hidden locker rooms in the hospital, and would soon be leaving. Perfect. He didn't really mind where she went after this, so long as she gathered together a few mercenaries, formed her own company. It would at least get her out of the Alliance's targets. If she was part of a larger mercenary organization, they could at least protect her from some of the Alliance. Her alias would last a short while. If she decided to disappear somewhere on the Citadel or Omega, it would take the Alliance a much longer time to find her, but she would also be stuck in hiding for the foreseeable future. Not viable for her or for him if she just sat on the sidelines.

Author's Note

To explain in terms most people can understand, Jack Harper has investments in a lot of companies. Some of these investments are just stock ownership, while others are shared liabilities that he gains a certain percentage of the profit that company makes. Either way, with those kinds of investments he can't just turn that into cash instantaneously. They are not very easy to just turn around for profit. You can bargain with stock, but you can't bargain with shared liability.

An Angel Investor is a single individual that contributes money to a capital fund. Or, alternatively, a single investor who funds a company during the startup phase. Jack Harper is an Angel Investor for Sirta Foundation, Markov Heavy Industries, and one of a few investors for Ashland-Hislopp Aerospace. He is entitled to stock from those companies, and cannot simply turn that money around quickly. His Ashland-Hislopp investment has become profitable, considering their need to produce Alliance ships. Markov Heavy Industries won't be profitable until they go to the Citadel market, same as Sirta Foundation.

To compare what kind of difficult Humanity is about to face, going into the Citadel economy, consider this. When the American market had a lack of demand for microchips, that demand was filled by Sun Microsystems. But Sun was located in Japan, and paid tremendous tariffs on their products to ship them to the United States. In order to cut that cost, Sun Microsystems created a new branch of their company and let them move to the American envelope.

That company was effectively a startup, underfunded and underemployed, and entering an already vibrant market. They faced all kinds of threats from companies larger and more powerful than they were, and required local venture capitalists just to set up. Effectively they were trying to get into a saturated market and sell a new product, while their competition saw them as a direct threat, and used their considerable advantage to try to keep them out of it. Sun Microsystems persevered through this, and now is one of the core computer component companies in the United States.

Now think about the Citadel Space market. Salarian and Asari investors, Volus bankers, and Turian cops. All of them have reason to shut down any Human endeavor that looks to knock any of their precious companies off their pedestal. So Human companies have to have a lot of capital to survive, to advertise, and to ship throughout Citadel Space. Laws are in place to protect the long-standing companies owned by the older races, and also to punish new players to the game. The Citadel economy is more than a thousand times larger than the entire Human economy. The amount of money is staggering, and the amount of competition is brutal. You won't see any Omni-tools sold by the Humans on the Citadel unless they have a lot of support from back home to cover for their losses.

Sure, some of the aliens will buy into the Human products. They'll try the food. They'll try the entertainment. But in the end, most won't touch the processed goods that Human companies produce. To try to keep the competition down, Council races will try to buy out raw materials that are on the open market, to drive local prices up and hurt companies at home. They will do anything they can to keep the status quo even.

That is Jack's big hurdle to overcome. There isn't some supervillian to kill. There isn't one person who, if they get assassinated, will clear up the entire process. He has to fight against a market that has one hundred times the value and competition that his companies are used to. So he is doing anything in his power to even the playing field.

Thanks for reading, guys. As always, enjoy life.

Aberron


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

January 2156, Alaskan Kodiak Territory

Jack hated driving. Controlling anything that involved three directions of movement didn't allow him to multitask very much at all. He was a fine pilot, he just prefered to pay for someone else to do that. His time was much better spent tracking problems and threats. As he had foiled one STG attempt, he expected at least two more upon his companies or entities directly before they got the message. He was sure that he was already one of the more threatening people in the Council's book. He was fine with that. If they didn't like him, it only helped him at this point. The only Humans that they would prefer were going to be more like the Elcor.

Quiet, complacent, and with a low market value. They preferred their lesser races easily controlled. But he had a few plans for that. He grinned, thinking about at least one of them that he would need to enact soon. Thankfully, that would be happening as soon as he had secured a source of labor.

His gunship that he had gotten a few mail messages about it being overdue to be returned to the base was very fun to fly, he could safely say. The months spent in the midwestern states had done very little to it, other than create a lot of dust. He had brushed off the seat and gotten started on the five hour flight. Now, though, he was coming into a snowstorm that had completely surrounded the wilderness his hideout here was inside of. He had a heck of a time flying through the winds, and one of the exhaust covers was reporting some temperature shifts into unsafe regions.

He ignored that, and found a place to set the gunship down. He might have had to go through one or two trees to make room for the fuselage to land cleanly, and the resounding crunch wasn't as thick. There was a couple of feet of snow on the open ground, and the trees hadn't even gone through that. There was only a small thump noise that accompanied each thirty foot tree going down. The gunship whined as soon as the landing gear extended, the snow too loose for them to grip. So the bottom of the gunship was now at the level of the snow, and the landing gear squeaked deplorably as it failed its purpose.

The lodge was still about eighty feet away, and all that Jack brought was his suit. He didn't like this next part, having eighty feet of two to four feet of snow to crawl through. By the end of that, he looked like he had gone a couple rounds with a boxer. Jack Harper was cold, wet, and his suit would have to get cleaned. He was sure that some tree sap had gotten on it as well, which was one of those substances that he couldn't tolerate. That and tar were just not tolerated by his nice clothes.

The worst part of the trip was arriving at the door and finding it locked. Knocking loudly, he waited for any sign that people inside had heard him. Considering there were hardly any tracks and no signs of any other craft here, he felt comfortable saying that the place hadn't been taken.

The door was flung open, and the angry face of Grrkl came through the door, followed by an eight foot pole made of wood. Jack backed away from the strange sight, and felt a muzzle sticking into his back. Turning his head around, he could see Nyra, glowing with biotics to stay on top of the snow, as well as a nasty looking rifle.

"Took you long enough." Said James, who was behind Grrkl with a pistol. Behind him and over by the fire he could see the blue eyes of his girls. Jack relaxed. So did the rifle and the Krogan, thankfully.

"I've dealt with those who were trying to kidnap everyone. As well as the people who paid them. They won't be trying that again." At least until they find some way to get around the Council laws that would be in effect over the human population in three months. But those had very few loop holes, as he rightly knew. As did the Batarians.

"Dad!" Miranda was the first to him. Considering Nyra and Grrkl's unknown loyalties, he chose not to have a terribly deep emotional reaction. He did pick her up, settling her weight into his arms, and looked down expecting to find Julia. She wasn't there. Looking up, he could see that she was still seated by the fire, and looked angry rather than happy to see him.

Carrying Miranda, he walked over to her and knelt down at her level. "I missed both of you. I'm sorry that it took so long, but I had to make sure that you were safe."

Julia gave him a slightly teary look. "You lied! You said you would come get us!"

"I'm Sorry. I know that I told you I would be there. But sometimes even I can't keep my promises. I love you, Julia. Don't forget that when I make mistakes in the future."

"You're going to lie again?"

"Part of my job is lying. Saying the right things to the right people. But thankfully, I'll be teaching you how to tell if someone is lying to you."

"Really?"

"All that and more." Julia had Asperger's, and the capacity to learn as fast as she was given information to learn from. Miranda had as much of a gift as well. She would have the best of teachers, the best of tutors. He didn't know quite what to do without becoming a full time parent, and that would inhibit his ability to protect Humanity.

"James, what's up with the stick?"

Hannah was sweating her way through the Mojave Desert. Jack had said that his shuttle was somewhere in between the old wrecks out here, in the plane storage museum. Thousands of planes were stored out here, their aluminum and metal hulks rusting in the sun. Ancient airplanes, older shuttles, and even older space flight shuttles were arrayed out in an organized fashion. She had ignored the forty people that maintained all these old wrecks, and had just looked up where the shuttle was on her Omni-tool.

The place she had been directed to was in the middle of all of the rusted heaps of metal. All she could find was some sort of Hercules airplane. It was in remarkable condition, with only a little bit of rust on the edges of its wings. It had a tarp covering its main body, and the doors were shut. But it was where she had been directed to. With a shrug, she walked towards the side door, and found it surprisingly sealed shut. She looked at the metal, finding it to be of a better quality of alloy. Curious, she brought out her Omni-tool and scanned for any receivers near the door.

The scan alone caused the door to pop open, with air escaping from the space on the other side. She pulled out her gun, and cloaked on her way inside. There was no noises, no signs of any trouble. She slipped inside, the Mark III Stealthsuit concealing all noise and movement. But inside the air was stale, warm, and smelled of a smell she hadn't come in contact with for a while. The smell of an old corpse.

There were no lights inside the old plane, but she didn't hear any sounds of breathing either. She shut the door, deciding to take the risk of being discovered. The light from her Omni-tool splashed around the compartment, revealing a large loading bay inside of the plane. Large enough to fit tanks and other vehicles. In the back of the loading bay was a shuttle, older model. Next to it was a single corpse, still dressed in a flight suit. The desert air had preserved the corpse excellently, and the skin was still on it. She walked over to it, seeing his flight suit labeling him as a flight officer for the _TCP-41_, which apparently was the number on the shuttle. That had since been repainted to some spanish name.

_Maria Sangrada_ was the name printed on the side of the shuttle. She shook her head at that. Turning back to the body, she could see that he had been killed by a single shot to the head, a clean shot. There was no exit wound. If her guess was right, that was from a small pistol, at close to mid range. Certainly Jack's style, if not his precision. How he had the reflexes and skills to use his pistol like that made her really wonder what his childhood was like.

She checked over the corpse, checking for anything she could take with her when she left. She found an old wallet, with an ID and an old credit chit. She could investigate more about this later, but right now she had most of what she needed. She grabbed a skin and hair sample and bagged them, just to make sure she could prove this later. _If_ she even wanted to prove this later. At this rate it might get her killed faster.

The shuttle was a bit dirty, but filled with crates of tomato paste and freeze dried tortillas. Jack had apparently thought of everything. There were even stains from where tomato paste had not been cleaned up from the walls. The _Maria Sangrada_ looked and smelled like a long used Latino restaurant supplier. Perfect for her purposes. It's engines needed a bit of time to get started, but when she sat down at the pilot's chair, she found the controls a bit alien.

The control stick she was used to, that was for sure. The air brakes were new, she could tell. Or at least had been installed relatively new. With no signs of dust on those parts, she knew she could control that at least. The large sliders on the sides of her interface were not something she remembered anything about or knew how to use. Inside this contained space, there was no way she would test it. Just in case they were weapons of some kind.

An old fashioned door control device lay sitting on the pilot's seat. She picked it up and sat down in her chair, as this was now all hers. She had money by the heap, and a few guns. The door control was obviously for the exit from the old airplane. She didn't know what would open, either the roof or the back. She was a bit worried about those sliders, but would have to try them once she got out into the atmosphere.

She waited for the sun to go down, before pressing the analog device. She kept that, just because of how rare it was to find something that you couldn't connect to with an Omni-tool. Devices like this were useful in their own way, or could be used as triggers for other robust devices. Signal jammers could block them easily, though. But she might have a use for it at some point. When she was sure that it was safe for her to leave, she triggered the button. She saw through the window as the old craft opened all around her, the roof expanding until there was a hole that she could go through. The engines kicked in, belching out dark brown clouds as they turned on for the first time in years.

The shuttle shook as it broke through the stratosphere and out into the debris field that surrounded Earth. Some of the dust scraped against the particle glass on her way out of orbit, and she was scanned at least twice. Nothing came by to do a more active scan on her shuttle, which she was grateful for. The smell of stale tortilla strips, tomatoes, and somewhere in here there had to have been a crate of salsa all permeated the craft. She was ditching this thing at first opportunity.

She hit the mass relay, having to wait in line with a couple other craft as one of the military patrols blew past them. It didn't help that this shuttle's top speed was basically a snail's pace. Every other ship in space passed her. It was enough of a frustration that she immediately went to the recycling yard at Arcturus. Not only was it not very suspicious for a ship this old and crappy to go there, but it was a direction that no one would scan her as she came in to dock.

The recycling dock was one of the dirtiest and dingy looking of the docks in Arcturus. It was being worked by a large number of grubby workers in dirty overalls. They were currently taking apart some sort of cargo container, covered in ice and rust marks. She brought in the shuttle slowly, the engines surprisingly handling well. Probably some sort of high end upgrade done at some point in the past. When she engaged the maneuvering thrusters, things went poorly.

They blasted for the first time in years, and some of the thrusters didn't engage. With a shuddering crash, the shuttle skidded to a stop instead of coming to a gentle stop. She gave the controls a glare, and yanked out the OSD from the ship's computer. It would have information that she might need later. When she kicked open the door to the shuttle, she saw the less-than-amused face of a dock worker. He was overweight, had flat feet, and was short.

"What kind of piece of crap landing was that, Lady?!" He started yelling. She also noticed that his suit gloves weren't covered in oil like all of the rest of the laborers.

"How much for the scrap?" She asked calmly, ignoring his angry statement.

"I ain't paying for that piece of crap! You come into my docking bay, scratch up my floor, and you want me to pay you? I could care less! You'll need to pay me for all this damage!" He was starting to rant, but was doing so in a practiced fashion. He had done this before, and swindled countless others who were desperate. He was the worst sort of scum, the government paid kind.

"Hold that!" She said, letting a strong Hispanic accent through. She had just dyed her hair black again, and had applied some thick makeup to her skin to create age lines and the darker skin that most people of latino descent had. "You don't have the right to dictate to me price. ArcturusNET states that you will take any scrap, and pay fair price. I even have the rate by tonnage." She held up her Omni-tool, not about to get cheated by some dock supervisor.

"Aye, but doesn't it also say that the docks are managed and directed by the local supervisors? Don't try to be legal with me, you cheap rat!" Racial comments were still all too common, now that aliens had become an epithet.

"Fine. As the computer died on the way in, keep the sorry piece of sludge for all that I care! I'll just file a formal complaint with the Dock Master." That made the man start calming down. Or at least looking at her with a sense of more than just greed. "Unless you want to pay me for the tonnage?"

"I'll pay you, don't fret. Just don't be making noise where it isn't wanted." He gave her a credit chit that she verified actually had the credits before she even left the room. Then she transferred them just in case.

"Maybe if you actually got your hands dirty rather than swiping honest people's money you might get a better view on life." She said as a parting shot. Her boots and ugly coat covered all of her stealthsuit, but could be easily dropped if she needed to cloak. She had her bag, and couldn't part with that, but could risk hiding it for a short time. As she left the docking bay, she noticed that none of the workers were paying her much attention, and the cameras weren't following her.

She wasn't signed in on anything, and anyone who saw her would instead see a migratory worker here to slip into some job where the pay wasn't enough or where no one would care. She walked like one, as well, shoulders slumped as if years of labor had curved the back. She never raised her eyes, which were the hardest thing for her to keep under control. Hardest to conceal her European heritage as well.

She walked to the busiest of the docks, and made a few turns there in the ductways. The locals avoided her, seeing as she had very little. One guy did try something, but she was able to convince him to avoid any further attempts. He didn't lose anything, thanks to his own cowardice. But once there, she pulled a nice business suit out of her bag, and dressed in that over her stealthsuit.

With that and a nice looking hat, she walked back into the business district. this time it was to a well travelled area, complete with cameras. Her hat and suit at least looked normal among all of the normal business members of Arcturus. She walked into the clinic sections of the station, looking for one of the ones that was specific. She found it not long after she got there, seeing the familiar label above one of the clinics.

She walked into the Lionel Charity Center with her hat low on her brow, the cameras not getting a clear shot of her. She found only one person in the reception area, the receptionist herself just spending time on a video application. She was working on some sort of problem or solution, as her fingers typed in practiced motions across the haptic interface. Hannah's shoes made loud clicks as she walked forward to the desk.

"Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist asked.

"With Dr. Reuters." She said, answering the question.

The secretary nodded, her head, and waved Hannah towards one of the doors. "He is free to see you." She noticed that the secretary had pressed a button under the desk, unlocking the left door. Hannah stepped through, though had her weapon ready if things went sour. Inside was a simple operating theatre, a couch, and a connected bathroom. This was one of the clinics that did work for different members of the intelligence community, and no questions were asked nor were there any identities shared. She hoped that they weren't paying too close of attention, as the doctor here was not your normal doctor.

Dr. Rupert Lionel was not average in any way. He wasn't technically a lisenced doctor, and he wasn't technically an Alliance citizen. Rupert Lionel was part of some sort of group that were still not granted citizenship due to war crimes in Africa, of some sort. But he was a good doctor, and was willing to operate on people without questions asked. "What did you need?" Was his only question.

"Eyes fixed. I need to look like an asian. Pull the skin of my forehead down a little bit, and give me a bit of a touch that makes me look like a mixed breed. Half asian, half caucasian. Enough that my eyes won't be too difficult to conceal."

"Facial features cost a bit extra, as I'll need an assistant. One hundred and ten thousand credits."

She loaded a credit chit, and then locked all of the rest via her Omni-tool. Only when she handed him the money did he pull out his Omni-tool and start up the process to knock her unconscious. She leaned back, smirking. Jack Harper could manipulate her, or try to, but she would follow her own plan.

When she opened her eyes again, they stung with every blink. She hissed at that, closing her eyes and keeping them shut.

"Don't open them. I had to tighten one of your muscles down and fix it up. You had damaged it previously. The medigel is still drying, and the synthskin is still bonding to you. Wait and keep your eyes closed for the next half hour, and then you can leave." She thought she could hear Lionel muttering about something about impatient patients.

At least her mouth worked fine. "No other complications?"

"Just some old work. Some stitches that were in your shoulder needed to be removed, and some new infused blood is helping you get on your feet. You'll be free to go in less than sixty minutes, and the operation lasted a total of fifty seven minutes. Don't eat seriously garbage food, and eat some seafood tonight. Fish oil will help the synthskin bind to you better." Dr. Lionel was one of the few doctors that was skilled enough to do plastic surgery and other work for just money, and nothing else.

"Did that run me over budget?" Lionel didn't care as long as you paid him. Rare for a doctor.

"Some. I'll be in my office when you can blink without pain. Don't try for at least a half hour." Lionel never took loans, and was not afraid of dumping your body in the street if you didn't have what he wanted. At least his bedside manner was better than Henry Lawson. That man could find a cist in your skin and find it funny, or joke about a tumor he had discovered as if it was your next best friend.

She waited for the blindness to pass and the pain to dull to a low throb, before standing and opening her eyes. They watered a little bit, but the skin held. She blinked a few more times until the room came into focus, and the lights were not so glaring. She stepped over to Lionel's office, which was not lit as brightly as the operating room. That was nicer on her eyes, and she directed them to his desk. It was made out of real wood, as proven by the marks from coffee cups and spill marks that had sunken into the wood.

"How much, Lionel?" HIs desk had a number of odd paraphernalia, including something that caught her eye immediately. Sitting on one side of the desk was a small Prothean statue, the same design that Jack had spent so much of the explosives on years ago. In fact, she could feel almost as if it might have been the same statue, even. If it wasn't for the fact that she had found pieces of the old one, she would have been sure.

"Just another ten thousand for the bloodwork and the complications with your shoulder. Whoever did the previous surgery was very good, and if I had kept my license I might actually send them a thank you note. They were very thorough." He didn't have any networked devices in this room, and other than a medigel dispenser and a few more fluid dispensers.

She paid him in a single credit chit, which Lionel took dispassionately. He just simply added it to a pile of other chits, to be deposited somewhere that he kept all of his money. She didn't bother investigating anything else, and gave him a polite bow and left. He didn't leave a goodbye, just a simple nod. Apparently he was back at work doing something else. When she emerged from the doorway and into the main room, a couple of people were waiting for appointments, but none of them were recognizable, or looked up at her entrance. One young mother, her belly distending her clothes, looked up. Hannah gave her a glare, and the young woman looked down again, but not before showing signs of fear and surprise.

She might be a plant to observe the clinic, but it was unlikely. Hannah didn't want to take the chance, and walked out of the clinic slowly but surely. Scrunching her face hurt, but the ache in her shoulder was ebbing away. The streets were not as packed as when she entered the clinic beforehand, as most people were no longer on their lunch breaks. She stayed to side passages and covered awnings until she got to the docks. There, she changed clothes again. This time it was into a sweatshirt and sweatpants. That was surrounded by a nice looking coat, and with some fuzzy slippers, she looked like anyone else who was going on a long cramped shuttle ride.

Getting a ticket wasn't the problem at this point, it would be going through security that would be more difficult. She could see that the detectors that you had to walk through with your luggage were meant to pick up on foreign matter. Explosives, element zero, poison, and alien DNA. She was familiar with these models because they were in every single Intelligence Office. They also had sensitive enough detection hardware to find her implants, as large as they were. She hadn't been able to get the generation 3 tactical cloak implants in, meaning that her old generation 1's would simply cause her grief. Not to mention only a few people still had those, and it would clue the Alliance in to her location immediately. That required her to use some sort of cloak, or distraction, to get by.

She eventually found a worker's entrance and simply waited for one of them to open it from the inside for a shift change. Sitting there cloaked, no one thought that anything was amiss. It was a simple matter to slip back into the crowds once she had access. The guards weren't looking for her quite yet. Or at least if they were, they were looking for a leggy redhead wearing a body-hugging catsuit. She wondered how Jack would take her choice to get a facial. Probably not well.

That thought had her grinning the entire wait for her shuttle, which got her a ride to the planet of Elysium, where she had to wait for a shuttle to the Citadel, and that flight she got some sleep. She had gotten a seat on a shuttle that went on to her destination, rather than get off at the Citadel. Few humans lived there, and any sighting of anyone new would just be uncomfortable. So she didn't leave the shuttle, and waited the four hours it stayed docked at the Citadel.

Only on the flight from the Citadel to Bekenstein did the shuttle get full. Previous flights weren't completely full, and Hannah had the benefit of avoiding social contact with others the entire flight. When a Turian sat next to her, she had to conceal a reaction. That didn't stop her from glaring at the alien, who seemed uncomfortable with her gaze on him. Not a minute later he had switched seats with an Asari, who looked apologetic at intruding into Hannah's space.

"Sorry about Vollux over there. He isn't the most comfortable around your race."

"I used to live on Shanxi." Hannah simply said, looking unhappy. That made the Asari wince. "Turians are still not my favorite people. But they helped us rebuild." She acted as if the Turians still pissed her off. That was not entirely false, though. She was responsible for some of the higher kill counts for the human race, apparently. Not only that, but she had killed a very important Turian to recover Jack's Omni-tool. Apparently she killed some sort of Spectre. The big scary agents of the Council that went bump in the night. None of them had been deployed for the First Contact War, but one of their most promising trainees had been.

His name was Saren Arterius. Biotic, skilled, and rather arrogant. He also had an amazing record, being some sort of Turian Hero before he had even become a Spectre. Apparently in their culture they have an entire branch of the military for Spectre hopefuls. Saren had been at the top of that, and his death had shocked the entire branch of the military. She laughed a bit about that. She had taken him down before he could have been truly deployed against them. He had been there one day before being killed by what they termed 'Alliance Ghosts'. Her government had no mentioned that there was only a single one active at the time.

"Well." The Asari said, not sure quite how to respond to her mixed compliment. "Glad to hear that your race is joining the larger community." She said, not looking to continue the conversation for longer than necessary. Hannah obliged, and quickly turned towards the window. She didn't sleep on the four hour trip to Bekenstein, and once in the spaceport she found a nice spot to get some news. Nothing was being said about Jack or her that was new, or about Earth in general. Some continued speculation towards the Quarian/Human connection existed, but it was nothing new. Ever since Jack had sold the shipyard to the Quarians, no one had gotten direct details. Jack certainly wasn't giving any, and the Quarians had been rather tight-lipped about it.

She pulled up the contact that Jack had given her on Bekenstein. They had an office right here at the spaceport, and it wasn't a long walk. The sign on the door was written in English, displaying the word, 'Excellence: Quality Security Specialists'. It was small compared to some of the buildings around it, but had a nice human veneer. She opened the door, and a set of mini wind chimes tinkled as the door slid open. She smiled at that. It was a very nice touch.

Inside was a standard business building setup, with a reception desk and a couple of larger men working at desks right behind the front one. The front desk actually had an older looking woman working it, a peculiar sight.

"Yes, how can we help you?"

"I was directed to come here and make a meeting with Alexei?" She hoped she didn't butcher the name.

The receptionist gave her a long look. "What kind of meeting, young lady?"

"I was directed here by a mutual friend. I am seeking employment." The two men at the rear desks were paying full attention to her, and apparently were packing heavy pistols. Jack had mentioned that this was a mercenary company, but she didn't expect outright hostility so soon/

"Alexei will have to review your work history before meeting you. Perhaps you could upload it to my interface, you will get your meeting." She said, not liking her at all. Hannah just pulled out her Asari-made shotgun and Turian aftermarket rifle. Both were significantly dangerous, and were also somewhat illegal in Citadel space. The men at the desks recognized that, and one of them started trying to look up the specs on them. She turned the weapons just far enough so that he couldn't get a picture of the serial numbers. That was something she still had to get changed.

"I served at Shanxi and have done some time in the Corsairs. I was told you would be able to hire me based on my work history." She offered. "My name is Allison Gunn." It was strange, going by her first name for the first time in so long.

The receptionist must have gotten some sort of signal from the men at the desks. She pressed the button on her haptic interface to notify one of the inner offices. "Alexei Heleokloplis will see you now. He is in the office to the left. Good luck." She also received nods from the two men at the desks. With a nod to the both of them, she set her luggage down and took off her coat. Still with travel clothes on, she took note of it and considered changing. It was a job interview, after all.

"I'll just need a moment in a bathroom, and then I will be ready." She offered, and found that easily enough. She dropped the travel gear and pulled a long faux-leather vest out of her bag, and wore that over her stealthsuit. It was much more intimidating. Her weapons she left in her bag, but kept her knives. Those had come in handy defending herself more than any other tool she had. Once she was satisfied with it all, she walked back into the hallway and came into the office of Alexei Heleokloplis.

He was a dark haired man with green eyes, and a full beard. He also was wearing a very nice suit, one that she knew was made of real wool. Possibly European, based on the cut of the suit jacket that she could see. "Miss Gunn! I had been told you might show up soon." His English was heavily accented, the Greek coming through on his vowels. He was also around five foot ten, and Hannah could almost look him in the eye.

"Alexei. My friend tells me that you might have a need for more than just a simple hired gun." She didn't dare try to pronounce that monster of a last name. Greek names were just difficult all around.

"All I know about you, Alexei, is that you are a good contact to get into the security business. But to be this close to the Citadel, you must have made your business in Citadel Space rather than Alliance Space. And since Jack mentioned you, I have to take everything you say with a grain of skepticism."

"All that he told me is that I needed you a lot more than you need me." Alexei replied. "I fail to see why. You look like some sort of Alliance agent, ready to come in here and kill me."

"Consider it a non possibility." Hannah said. "If you run a security business, then you have the ability to conceal who exactly is on your payroll. I am seeking a little bit of cover from the Alliance currently, and if you don't want to offer that I have other contacts."

"Probably none like the Dawn." Alexei said, motioning for her to sit down. "We were not well liked in Alliance space before the First Contact War, and we found an opportunity for our services here that my people were only too happy to provide. Back on Earth, people call us terrorists or worse. At one point we were a political party that controlled the country of Greece, my home. Our policies led to some trouble, and eventually we were kicked out of the European Union and United Nations on crimes against Humanity. Old news, old history. The greater galaxy gave those of us who have been weakened by the Alliance's member states a location to spread ourselves to. We founded a few security companies out here, where our blood can be spilt and our honor can be found again."

"So, you are from the Greek paramilitary organization that the Alliance is so desperately hunting down on Earth?" Hannah offered as a question, knowing a lot more than she acted like. She had actually gone after a couple of the targets herself, but she wasn't going to mention that to him.

"Aye. We are no longer welcome at home. Yet our people look for opportunity among the stars. With nothing but death and crime awaiting us on Earth, we send our people out in droves here, to be security guards, soldiers, mercenaries. So long as we don't betray one another, we will find a future here."

"I think I know what your problem is, then." Hannah said. "You need to know how to overcome Alliance patrols to get your people out. And I need a job."

"How well do you know the Alliance, Ms. Gunn? I assure you-" He started, but Hannah decided to cloak. When she decloaked next to him, hair falling askew from when she had flipped over his desk, she was grinning.

"I know it better than any man you could have in your contacts list. If you protect me, then I'll help you out. Right now the Alliance wants me dead as much as they want you dead."

Alexei hadn't gotten his pistol out fast enough. Her hand was resting on it, yet she hadn't pulled her knife out. He relaxed after he saw that she wasn't planning on killing him.

"How will I know that you aren't a plant from the Alliance?"

"Jack Harper might not be the most trustworthy of people, but he wouldn't send me to someone who would refuse the help. Nor would he miss an opportunity to have you in his debt." She said, releasing her hold on his weapon and standing up fully.

"That, that is very true. Our previous dealings with him indicate that he is a snake, but one with a very charismatic tongue."

"So, do we have a deal?" Hannah asked, returning to her side of the desk. "Or do I cloak and disappear, going to help some other group that is being targeted by the Alliance?"

Alexei reached into the desk and pulled out some sort of liquor. "No, no, please stay. My curiosity is piqued. Allison, was it? Please tell me more about yourself. I will try to be as forthcoming." His gun returned to its spot under the desk, but the liquor was poured immediately.

Author's Note

I've been sort of late in getting to the story lately, and for that I apologize. We are almost at the actual games' timeline. There is just a little bit more to set up, and we will be done with backstory and development, and then we will be jumping right into the story. To all those who have written PMs and reviews, thank you very much. Your input is appreciated and helps me develop the world and fix any mistakes made so far.


End file.
